


Baton Rouge (5/8)

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-31
Updated: 1999-12-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 57,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Another trip for Skinner and Mulder to the hot South. A VCS case. A hotel in Baton Rouge. A coming out of sorts. Enjoy!





	Baton Rouge (5/8)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Baton Rouge by frogdoggie - Part 1

Friday, June 18, 1999. 5 PM. The gym in the J. Edgar Hoover Building.

I lift the curl bar up again, straining with the effort. I've added weight on the bar today and this is definitely what they mean when weight lifters say they're going for the burn.

The tenth rep is a killer. My muscles are hot, protesting under the stress. But, my form is perfect, I can say with some pride. So, although it's a challenge to bring the bar back against my forearms I'm not going to injure myself.

"UhhhhhTEN!" I grunt, and then I bring the bar back down and let it fall with a clank onto the mat.

Dana Scully stands across from me, lifting her matching curl bar, her neck muscles cording with her own efforts to lift the extra weight she's added for tonight's work out. I step forward and gently push up on the bar so that she can make it the last inch or so back tight against her bulging biceps.

"Eight!" she hisses and I step back so she can drop the bar as well.

We both stand there breathing together, letting the adrenaline rush play through our bodies. I move my shoulders and arms around a little and so does she. Our breathing becomes regular again. Scully smiles.

"Thanks for the extra help."

"No problem. You ready for the bench press?"

She moves her head around a little stretching her neck. I notice her wince a little. I glance around the gym. It's empty tonight even though we started earlier than unusual. Well, on a Friday everyone is anxious to get out of here and going to this gym is probably the last thing on their minds. Good. I'm glad no one else is here to intrude. 

I walk forward and then around in back of Scully. I place my hands carefully at the base of her neck.

"Here," I whisper, starting to massage her tense muscles. Her head lolls from side to side and she sighs. I can feel the muscles loosen under my hands.

"Better?" I ask quietly.

"Much," she nods a little.

"Remember not to tighten your neck muscles up so much next time. Use your biceps and pecs to take the weight."

"Ok," she agrees. Her hand comes up and tentatively touches my right hand where it still rests on her shoulder.

I swallow hard, and release her, stepping back to give her space again.

"So, how about that bench press?" I ask huskily. I clear my throat.

She turns and smiles up at me.

"Ready. Would you add the weights to the bar?"

"My pleasure," I smile back at her. She walks over to the bench press and shakes out some talc from the container there. She claps it into her leather weight lifting gloves.

"Make sure your belt's seated right." I advise her gesturing towards the weight lifting belt, buckled around her waist.

"Right," she nods, checking that it's seated well and supporting her back properly.

While she's doing that, and then getting ready to lie down flat on the bench press I obtain the additional weights from the rack. 10 pounds on each side. She's ready for it I think.

I attach the weights securely to each end of the weight bar where it rests in the bench's upright posts. I position myself in back of the bench in the optimum position to grab the bar if Scully falters in her press.

Scully's lying flat now, shifting a bit and wriggling to get comfortable. Once her back and hips are situated where she wants them she looks up towards the bar. As she's gauging to place her gloved hands I notice a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. I glance over towards the windowed wall that borders the room. Outside that window is the hallway leading into the pool area. You can have a nice clear view of the whole weight room and this area in particular from the hallway. Someone is walking down that hallway, right now. Walking and looking directly at Scully and me. Looking right into my eyes.

Kersh. Fuck!

I hear Scully's hissing intake of breath. I look down and see that she must have followed my gaze because she sees him too.

"Stop looking," I whisper between clenched lips. She obeys instantly, going back to seating her hands on the cross bar. Luckily Kersh was more concerned with looking at me speculatively and didn't see the movement of Scully's head.

"Damn it," she replies quietly.

"Forget it. I'll...I'll deal with it, Scully. Concentrate on the weights. Focus," I order her.

The last thing I want her to do is lose it and hurt herself. I'll have to deal with Kersh. After all this is innocent enough. He knows I work out down here. I just happened to be available as a spotter. He can go to hell if he thinks this violates the *you don't need to have anything else to do with Mulder and Scully dictate*. Fuck him. 

I turn my attention back to Scully where she's gripping the bar. 

"OK, remember - only 8 reps. Just like the curl bar. You know the drill."

"Two less than the normal reps the first time you go up in weight."

"Good," I reply with a small smile. It's standard op - I did the same. I normally do 12 reps put did 10 tonight myself, "Ok, remember your breathing," I add.

"Right. Ok. Here goes," she nods. Taking a firmer grip, she lifts the bar.

"One," I hiss out for her. I'll count the cadence so she can concentrate. She gives a nice clean press. The bar goes down easily. I stand and watch. It comes up again.

"Two," I count. She makes the same smooth move again and I smile down at her efforts. So far, so good.

We get through 6 and her arms are starting to falter just slightly. I know 7 and 8 are going to be trouble. I step closer and stretch out a hand towards the bar.

"NO!" she blurts out bringing the bar up for the 7 count. She groans hard with the strain, biting her lip a little in the process. The weight goes back down to her chest and she groans

"Seven," I whisper. "Ok. Scully, This is it. No pain, no gain," I add, getting ready to move fast in case she runs into serious trouble.

Scully starts to heft the bar and I can see the strain on her face, in her arms and in her entire body. She's almost in agony I think. I'm not sure she's going to make it and neither is she. Her face is scrunching up hard, grimacing as she pushes the bar up.

"Caaaaan't," she cries out.

I lean over her and pin her eyes. When I want to I can turn on AD Skinner very quickly. AD *ex-Marine I can make 'em hump with the best when I want too soldier* Skinner. Oh yeah. I do it now. I bend forward and shout right into her straining face.

"FUCK CAN'T. COME ON. LIFT IT, AGENT!"

Her eyes go wide, and she does lift the bar, right up to the top of the cross rights. I grab the bar as she rocks it back. I help her place it in the holders with a harsh metallic clank. Scully slumps down flat against the bench and closes her eyes. She's smiling though, gasping, but there's a grin on her face.

"Good job," I congratulate her. She opens her eyes and laughs at me.

"You scared the shit out of me, Walter."

I chuckle, "It worked didn't it?"

"Hell yes. God, that felt good," she nods, sitting up and stretching.

I want to touch her so badly in that moment. Just rub her back and tell her she's one hell of a trooper. Hell, I wanna kiss her too. But right now that would be highly ill advised with AD Kersh splashing around in his neon orange boxer swim trunks in the other room.

"Yeah, it's a definite rush. Listen. You want to spot for me here? Then I think we'd uh...better hit the showers."

"All right. I hope that lasagna is going to be enough for us. I've worked up quite an appetite," she replies, getting off the bench to make room for me.

My face tenses and she furrows her brows.

"Do you want to take a rain check? I'll more than understand if you do," she points her chin towards the pool area.

"Kersh?" I ask

She nods.

"Fuck him. I'm not giving up a plate of your lasagna just because that asshole saw us in here. It'll be fine. We're keeping our date. I'll handle Kersh later."

She nods decisively, and stands back to let me put some talc into my weight gloves. I pound the talc in with force. With each slap I visualize Kersh's face under my fist.

xXx

Later. The men's shower.

My earlier comment comes back to haunt me as I'm soaping my stomach. I guess now's later, I think, as Kersh comes in from the pool area. I watch him go to his locker, and search around in it for something. Out he comes with a bar of soap. The soap goes on the long wooden bench in front of the lockers. He strip off his trunks, picks the soap back up, and comes in under the communal shower heads. He turns one on a few steps down from me and jumps slightly as the water hits his head.

He shakes himself off and then catches my eye. I move the bar of soap up my body and over my chest, under my arms. The lather thickens over me.

"Walter," he nods.

"Oliver," I nod back, moving the bar of soap around some more. 

Talk about top games. Yeah, here it comes mutherfucker. And listen. At the Bureau - when we're playing this version of that game - Battle of the 9 ADs - there's only one damn top dog. AD Walter S. Skinner. Believe it buddy. There's only one top dog here, reprimand or not, Ollie. So...get ready to rumble. I'm gonna chew you up and spit out the gristle.

"I see Agent Scully has taken up weightlifting," he volleys over as he soaps his chest up with the bar he brought in with him. He's looking straight at me

I grunt, a totally noncommittal sound and run the bar of soap down in a swooping gesture. Kersh's eyes follow my hands just like I wanted them too. Just like I thought they would. I move the bar of soap over the scars that criss- cross my groin, and then I rub it slowly into my pubic hair. Kersh is getting a prime view of my cock as I start soaping myself up, moving and lifting it to make sure I get Mr. Johnson nice and squeaky clean. Now I really enter the battle. I have some suspicions here regarding AD Kersh. I need to find out if they're true. If they are - the wars over and I'll win. I can see his eyes widen as he watches my crotch. Widen and then narrow. Oh yeah, asshole, you can see this thing even without your fucking glasses. Damn straight.

I can practically feel the air vibrate with the partly outraged, partly aroused hiss he emits despite the fact he's standing two shower heads down. See the quick head jerk of guilty denial to cover his tracks. I haven't taken my eyes off him either, even though he hasn't been looking at my face. Nope. Gottcha Oliver. I bet you'd like to take a picture. Yeah, it'll last longer, you prick.

Ollie, someone should have told you that one of the things straight guys learn early on is never look at the goods in the urinal or the shower. And you sure as hell don't stare, baby. Unless of course you're not exactly a straight guy. Unless you're bordering on being a member of the queer nation like poor, dumb jock Walter S. Skinner. Yeah, 18, in the closet, and petrified someone's going to pound you into the pavement because they catch you sneaking a peak at their prime meat in the locker room shower. So, as much as I hate to admit it - It takes one to know one. Yeah, I've been there, done that, and now so have you, Oliver. And enemy mine, I can play you like a good hand of poker. So, get ready for my Royal Flush Mr. AD. Here it comes.

In truth, Kersh doesn't look long. He almost gets away with it. But not quite. No, I noticed the direction of his gaze, subtle though he tried to make it. So, when he does look up at last, my face is set in stone. Frosty, but I have one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. I can see the realization in his eyes that he knows I know he was checking me out. I maintain tight control and a blank expression as he looks away, turning into the steaming water.

"Does chlorine bother you Oliver?" I ask as he scrubs the soap all over his arms and shoulders. He's scrubbing really hard.

"What?" he blinks back over at me in confusion.

"I just wondered if the chlorine from the pool bothered you," I repeat, nodding at the shower head.

"Oh, you mean the shower?" he blusters, "yes, the chlorine makes me itch. Besides...it smells."

"Yeah. I don't like the smell much either," I agree, putting just enough emphasis on the word *smell* to make him wonder if I'm insulting him in some strange oblique way. He continues to soap and then he tries to re-enter the skirmish.

"Have you been working out with Agent Scully for long, Walter?" 

I turn around a couple of times under the spray of water to rinse some of the soap off. I turn my back on him and drop the soap. I bend down so he gets a really good view of my ass. I pick up the soap and turn around again. I catch him jerking his head forward. Bingo! Wars over. I curl my lip up just a bit. I bet you have some good dreams tonight Ollie. I really do.

"I don't work out with Agent Scully. I was just spotting for her. Why do you ask?"

Ok. Here it comes.

"Because you know you aren't supposed to interact with Agent Scully or Agent Mulder, Walter. It was part of the reprimand. They're under my jurisdiction now," he finishes turning just his head to stare at me as he soaps up his stomach.

You know I should pity this jerkwad. I mean this second hand, Morley smoke sucking bastard is pretty much in the same place I was just a few short years ago. But I can't find it in my heart to pity him. I despise him too much. He disgusts me as much as I used to disgust myself back then. Yeah. I think Kersh is a traitorous sack of shit. He's going to pay for it. If I can help to make him pay, I will.

I rinse the soap off my scalp which is the last thing I got done cleansing. I turn and stride the three or four short steps it takes to stand face to face with AD Oliver Kersh. We're almost the same height - he's maybe a half inch shorter so I can pretty much look him right in the eyes. His pupils are almost black. Like little pools of oil. I can see them really well, swimming in the whites as he holds his eyes wide open for me. Kersh sucks in his breath and cups his genitals, covering them with lather and soap in a protective embrace. 

"I was not interacting, Oliver. I was preventing a valuable bureau agent from injuring herself. If she's under your jurisdiction - you get your fat ass down here and spot for her next time."

"How dare you," he starts to object.

"Dare? Dare me?" I press close and glance down at his hands.

"You have no right..."

"No right to protect a bureau agent?" I ask raising an eyebrow. 

"Cut the crap, you know what I mean," he snarls. I have him crowded back against the shower wall now. The hot water runs over us both. My face is unreadable as I study him. He's doing a fair job of trying to return my glacial look. But he's not quite making it work. I'm going to insure that he can't make it work at all.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Oliver. Explain it to me," I hiss between tightly clenched teeth.

I watch him closely as he considers my words. This is going to be awkward if he thinks I'm really coming on to him. If he decides to take me up on the offer. But I'm betting on the fact that Kersh is basically a straight arrow, married man with a wife and two teenage daughters who sits at home around 3 AM and accesses the gay porn fuck sites on the Internet. I'm betting, deep down somewhere, he's as guilty as hell about his little diversion. But I bet he looks.

I'm betting because that's what I did when I told myself I was a straight arrow AD with a beautiful wife. I feel sick suddenly as I look at Oliver Kersh. I mean he's so much like me it's not even funny. My resolve falters. Fuck. Maybe...maybe I should forget that Kersh is a low-life scum sucking, son of a bitch who's betraying the entire human race - not to mention hurting the ones I love. Maybe, for old times sake and because he's like yours truly I should give him a break. I mean I'd be able to sleep better. Respect myself in the morning if I did. Look at myself in the mirror without wanting to vomit. I consider it as Kersh stands there breathing heavily under the hot stream from the shower head.

So I watch him think about it. Watch all the emotions cross his countenance. Anger. Lust. Denial. Fear. Defiance. Hate. Hate for me. That's just wonderful. Well that clinches it. Fuck him. He's meat for the beast now. Up until this point I was willing to cut him some slack. Just a little maybe because - I mean the man does have a family. Innocents. You think I like doing this kind of thing to a man? You think I don't realize he has a wife and kids? You think I enjoy one upping him with veiled threats to ruin his career or tell his family about his sexuality?

God, how hypocritically disgusting is that Walter? I mean...you were in this position once. Fuck! You still are in this position. No I don't like it. I hate it and I loathe myself for doing it. But look - this is dog eat dog here, agents. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was war and yes - the human race is at stake. Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. And that includes my needs to feel like a decent human being sometimes, agents. I learned that at my sergeant's knee in Nam. So, make no mistake. War is hell. We're going to hell, Oliver and I. Why not? I've been there before, and he's down there all ready.

"Just don't let me get the idea you're doing anything but spot for her Walter," he grates at me.

"Or?"

"Or I'll go to Freeh."

"See that you do that, Oliver. Fine with me. But you'll never get the opportunity because that was all I was doing," I reply. Then I back off from him slightly giving him back some of his personal space.

"Just see that I don't," he shoots back at me, "I don't want to see Scully injured here either Walter...in any way..." he lets his voice trail off suggestively.

/Oh yeah, right. You pig./

I nod and reach up just as I'm about to turn away. I pretend to rinse some leftover soap off the top of my head. I brush the hot water faucet, twisting it off in the process. I move back just as ice cold water pours down over Kersh.

"Sorry!" I shout as he hollers in startled, angry anguish.

"Fuck you, Skinner," he shakes and hops around, grabbing to turn the faucet off.

I look at him and the last glimpse I get is of his shriveled up balls and cock as he turns away from me, hugging himself around his goose pimple covered middle.

"Fuck you," he mumbles again.

"In your dreams, asshole," I whisper, sneering to myself, and yeah...at myself as I turn. I grab my towel off the hook outside the shower door and saunter to the lockers to dry off and get dressed. 

xXx

 

* * *

 

xXx

Friday, June 18, 1999. 8:30 PM. Outside Dana Scully's apartment. Georgetown.

So, it's gonna be a late dinner. Well...we'll say it's European. Fashionably late. Whatever.

Scully waited patiently while I did my little dominance dance with Kersh. She wanted to make sure I was all right because I know she suspected Kersh had gone into the shower. She withheld her questions however. Shit. The look on my face before I could shut it down probably spoke volumes.

She told me she was going on ahead to get the rest of dinner ready. I guess the lasagna was made and just had to be microwaved to warm it up. My stomach growled a little at her mentioning it. We did laugh. She left and I went back up to my office to retrieve the bottle of wine.

Then I drove a circuitous route to her apartment in Georgetown. I had several reasons. One was because I was still angry over Kersh and wanted to shake it off so I wouldn't lay that on Scully's doorstep. Another reason was - fine - I'm still nervous about being alone with her. I'm anxious about talking over the issues I know are going to come up. So, I delayed in order to crank up my nerve.

And finally - I was cautious. I didn't want anyone following me. When I reached Scully's home, I parked my car a block down and across the street and sat in it for a few minutes. I wanted to scan the street for anything out of the ordinary. I didn't get any short hairs on my neck standing up. After Nam and my years in the Bureau I have a sixth sense for trouble. A nose for bad news. But I wasn't smelling anything in the air tonight - hence no ruffling shorthairs. So, I grabbed the bottle of wine off the seat and jogged over to the building entrance. Once inside Scully buzzed me in and I went down to her apartment door. It's quiet in her building. Good. Fewer prying eyes.

So here I stand. I can hear the dead bolt click.

She opens her door looking relaxed and... well she looks gorgeous in the subdued light coming from inside.

"Come on in," she smiles, stepping back and gesturing for me to enter.

I walk past her and pass into the living room area. The dining room's beyond. The table's all ready set for dinner. Table for two. Candles. I feel myself relax a little almost immediately. Christ I need to unwind. Scully's preternaturally psychic or just one hell of a good person to innately understand what I need tonight. Then again - hell - I would imagine she needs a little wine, food and companionable talk as well.

"It's quiet in your building," I observe, my thoughts returning to earlier.

"For a change," she nods, "Patty next door just left for San Diego to visit her new boyfriend. The Nelsons across the hall are on retreat, I believe."

"Religious?"

"Right. And...I happen to know the apartment above me is vacant. Mrs. Kiminsky, the manager's wife told me that yesterday. I guess I'm supposed to pass it on to my fellow agents."

I chuckle, "Wouldn't hurt to have more free building security I guess."

"Exactly," she replies.

I file the information away for further reference. A vacant apartment above Scully might...might have some advantages. She interrupts my reverie and I refocus on my hostess.

"Can I take your coat, Walter?" she asks.

"What? Oh, sorry. Sure. Uh...where would you like the wine?"

She takes my suit coat and glances at the bottle.

"Since it's served at room temperature you can go get two glasses from the wine rack in the kitchen and pour us each a glass, if you'd like," she suggests. "Or would you prefer a bourbon?" she adds, eyebrow raised speculatively.

"No thanks. The wine will be fine," I grin a little and then smile realizing I've made a rhyme out of my reply.

"Ok. I'll just hang this up and I'll be right back," she grins in return.

I watch her take my coat back to the coat closet near the door. She looks just great, dressed all in black. Black leggings of some kind and a long, loose black sweater that flatters as well as makes her look very comfortable. Bare feet. Oh yeah. I turn and head towards the kitchen, loosening my tie as I walk.

I snag a couple of long stemmed wine glasses off her short glass rack.

"Cork screw?" I yell back towards the living room.

"Oh sorry. In that small drawer nearest the sink."

I root around in the drawer and come up with the cork screw. The wine is open in short order, making a small pop as the cork comes out. I pull off a paper towel from her paper towel dispenser and place it under the cork before I leave it on the counter. I pour the two glasses partly full and head back with them into the living room. 

I meet Scully half way as she's coming back through the doorway. 

"Oh, wonderful. Just let me check the lasagna. I think I need to nuke it one more time."

"All right, shall I take these into the dining room?"

"Yes, put them on the table please. And then would you help me with the rest of the food?"

"Yes ma'am," I nod, and she smiles.

In short order we're seated across from each other, lasagna, salads, Italian bread and wine between us, eating with gusto. This is one thing I like about Scully. She gets right to the point. I was starving and so was she so bring on the pasta and forget the preliminaries. But we're talking and the wine is helping me to relax further.

"How's Margaret?" I ask with genuine curiosity.

I haven't seen Scully's mother in about a month. Conflicting schedules. I had squired her out a couple of times - when John Byers wasn't available. We attended a gallery opening once and then once, a concert. She's special. I like her company a great deal.

"She's fine. She did tell me to say hello and not to worry that she thinks you're neglecting her," Scully replies with gentle teasing.

She still does tease me about Margaret playing at being my lover last Halloween. God that was some operation. Gave me a whole new perspective on both Scully and her mother. I still think Maggie Scully could work as an undercover field agent.

"I've been meaning to call, but, you know how it is," I shrug taking a sip of the wine, "I'm glad she does understand."

"Well she's been busy with Byers..."

I bark a laugh.

"Not that way!" Scully pulls a fake outraged face.

"I know but...God, Scully. I still can't get over your mother and Byers. I...I just don't know what to think of it."

"It bothered me on some gut level at first too, Walter. But...Byers has been a perfect gentleman. My mother has had rather a difficult time dealing with my father's death in some ways....she's been..."

I raise a hand, "You don't have to tell me this, Scully. I mean if it's private family business I don't need to hear it...seriously." 

"No, Walter I don't mind telling you. I've talked about the situation with Mulder. I...I'd like to talk about it with you too," she answers quietly.

I nod, setting my wine glass down, and she continues.

"My mother still mourns for my father and...she's not quite ready to let a man into her life in a romantic way quite yet, I think." 

"Understandable," I nod.

"So, she...well she dates...but it's not to have a romantic relationship really. It's more along the lines of banishing the loneliness."

"I see, yes," I nod again.

"So...she does go out with men - safe men who don't necessarily expect her to get romantic."

"Like gay ADs," I smile at her.

She reddens slightly, "I'm sorry I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did. She really does like and admire you, Walter. For a lot of reasons."

"I'm sorry. I know that, Scully. I was just doing a Mulder I guess. You know - go together long enough and it starts to rub off." 

"Oh, well I can only hope that were the case - in the height department I mean."

We both laugh a little and I reach and touch her hand lightly. 

"So what about Byers? I mean she probably does consider me safe because I'm queer./Well...juries out Walter but Maggie doesn't know that/. It's logical and only natural for her to have something like that in the back of her mind. I don't hold it against her. But Byers never struck me as gay? I mean he's a techno geek but...well I don't really know where he's coming from I guess." I pull may hand away slowly and sit back a little waiting for Scully to speak.

John Byers has always been quiet and unassuming. Almost the voice of reason amongst Mulder's three hacker friends. But in reality I don't know much about him. I mean he comes off as paranoid and as insecure as the rest of the editors of that rag sheet, The Lone Gunman. But, for all I know he's the center stage act at one of the local drag shows downtown too.

Scully sighs, "I was quite frankly interested in knowing what was what with John Byers too, so..."

"So you asked him?"

"Yes I did."

She stops and I wait a moment. She looks down and plays around with what's left of her lasagna.

When she looks up, I raise both eyebrows in inquiry.

"He told me he's in love with her."

I whistle softly.

"My reaction was a bit more...well I was a little shocked and upset shall we say?"

"I guess I can understand why."

"Yes, but why should I have felt that way, really?"

"Because you think he's paranoid and possibly delusional?"

"Walter, that's hardly fair coming from Mulder's lover is it?" she shoots back, dropping her fork onto her plate with a slight rattle. 

I make a placating gesture with my hand.

"All right. I get your point. It's a good one."

"Exactly. I mean certainly he's odd, and he's much younger than my mother but...he was really sincere and I have to say very perceptive."

"How so?"

"He said he realizes my mother isn't ready for...ready to be involved with a man yet. He knows she still mourns for my father. He respects it, and he's willing to support her, lend an ear and shoulder for now."

"Well, that's laudable."

"Right. He also said - he's willing to wait because he fully intends to ask her to marry him when she's ready to except a man in her life again."

"Christ on a crutch."

She shrugs.

"Has Maggie gotten wind of this at all?" I ask frowning slightly. 

"No. Like I said - he's been a complete gentleman. I guess...I guess he's waiting for my mother to say something to him."

"Hell. Well I admire his guts and his humanity. That...that's a damn fine thing he's doing. Truly."

Scully sighs again, "I thought so too. I told him...I told him that whatever my mother decided was fine. It as her life and I wanted her to be happy. If he could make her happy again by being her husband he had my blessing."

I nod and she adds one more thing.

"I just told him don't expect me to call you dad."

We both crack up then because the tension has risen and needs to be dispelled with laughter by that point. Scully is sputtering so much she has to reach for her white linen table napkin. She waves a hand in the air in dismissal and then we both finally settle down enough to speak again.

"I'm sorry...I...I just had to let that all out."

"Felt good to get it off your chest, didn't it?" I ask quietly. 

She looks at me with genuine kindness and affection in her eyes. 

"Yes it did, Walter. Thanks for listening."

"Well...uh...you know my door's open anytime, Scully."

I smile at the work allusion and so does she.

"Listen, are you full? I do have some ice cream for desert."

"Tempting but...would you mind if I had some of that excellent brandy you purchased before we left Crossroads."

"Ah ha - by all means," she replies with enthusiasm, "Why don't you go make yourself comfortable on the couch and I'll clean up here and..."

"Uh uh. I help clear and then we both go in and get comfortable." 

She smiles broadly, "Walter, you're going to make someone a wonderful wife someday."

I guffaw loudly and then we begin to clear the table.

Later...

After a time out to take care of dual calls from Mother Nature. Scully and I are seated on opposite ends of her couch. We're sipping at our snifters of brandy and making small talk. Speculating on which movies will be hits this summer, discussing Mulder's trip and the likelihood that he and his mother will be at odds before it's over. The necessity for us to help him get it back together when he returns. My recipe for black bean soup which Scully has been trying to worm out of me and which I divulge finally with the promise that she won't give it to Frohike even though he's going to be her for it. A dozen different things that have us chuckling often and smiling by the time we're on our second snifter full of brandy.

Scully looks very relaxed now. She's got her feet tucked under her and she's seated sideways, leaning back into the cushions so we can converse. I watch her eyes sparkle even in the muted lighting. I'm impressed again at the intelligence in them and the gratefulness when I tell her I felt honored for her to discuss her mother and father with me. I know she misses her father too, and I tell her I'll always be happy to listen if she ever wants to talk about Bill Scully, Sr. I mean my father was a son of a bitch but fair in most ways. I did love him and I miss him even now despite the fact we fought like dogs all too often when he was alive. So, I tell her that too and she responds by saying she'd like to hear about my father sometime too. It's a deal I tell her. And yeah - I'll keep the deal too.

I've taken off my tie and draped it over the couch back. At her encouragement I've removed my shoes too and stretched out my legs. With her permission I'm propping them on her coffee table. It does feel good. I'm relaxing a little further myself. So, when she asks her question about Kersh the anger and guilt that wells up in my chest can be tamped down enough for me to answer her without sounding like I want to shoot the questioner.

"So I take it Kersh confronted you in the shower?" she asks, interest and sympathy written on her face.

"He tried to, yeah," I nod, taking another sip of the brandy.

"And..."

"He tried and failed," I say with a noncommittal shrug.

"Ok," she nods, taking a sip of her own brandy.

We sit there in silence for a few seconds.

"So, you're not going to tell me what he said, I take it?" she finally prompts.

I sigh. No I don't want to tell her what he said. And I really don't want to tell her what I said and did in there. It's humiliating and...as I said...I do hate myself for it. I'm worried about what she'll think of me too. So sue me. I'm...she matters to me now, as confused as my mind is on that issue. She matters and what she thinks of me matters too. I know my jaw muscles are jumping. Clenching and unclenching. Crap.

"Walter, I...I know you're upset. You're jaw muscles are twitching. So...come on...why don't you..."

"Scully, it's very hard for me to talk about this kind of thing. The...the games I have to play at the Bureau. What I have to do politically to...to stay afloat. I'm not sure what you'll think when I tell you and that bothers me," I let out in a rush.

I lean forward and place the brandy snifter on the coffee table. I turn to look at her.

"Can you understand that and maybe just let this go for now?"

She sighs.

"No, I can't. Look, Walter. You...you matter to me now. I mean my God, after...after Crossroads how can you not think..." she stops that train of thought abruptly.

She's reddening a little. I feel my ears heat up as well. I look down at my hands because I saw the depth of her feeling, and I know she saw the moment of confusion mixed with desire in my eyes as well. She continues quietly and I listen without looking up at her.

"Walter, I can't just watch you fight this fight on your own alone anymore - letting it eat you alive and not want to help you. Can you understand that idea? And also - I think we all know where Kersh's loyalties lie in connection with what we're trying to overcome. Who he really reports to and why. So, anything he had to say to you impacts on you, me and Mulder. And I'm not going to just sit by and let him roll on over us. All right?" she finishes, placing her brandy snifter down as well. I follow her hand from the coffee table back up to pin her eyes. She's hugging her middle tightly.

-END OF PART 5-

Scully's angry but trying to hold it in. I know she's not angry at me. It's the situation. She's angry and partly afraid too. We all are, there's no shame in admitting it. If you don't admit your fear in a combat situation it can kill you. I look at her and I know she's correct. It's her right to know and a necessity as well so she has the tools to overcome both her anger and her fear. To conquer them so she'll be a better soldier in this war.

I sigh and shift to face her more fully.

"Ok, fair enough," I nod, "You deserve to know, yes. You deserve to know because you matter to me now too, Scully. But this isn't easy for me to admit and I'm not sure I'm going to mean as much to you after I tell you."

"Try me," she whispers.

I nod, toying with a thread I find on the back of the couch. I start to talk and Scully sits, Sphinx like, letting me tell her what happened in the shower.

"Kersh did come in while I was showering, yes. He...he started in on seeing us together right away. He threatened me, and implied a threat to you too if we were actually audacious enough to be interacting on a regular basis."

I glance up at her and see her forming the question that's was in my mind at the time as well.

"No, I don't think he knows anything about you and me. Or me and Mulder or...well I don't think he knows. Uh...he may just be fishing. Trawling to see if he can dig up dirt for future use."

She nods in understanding.

"All right. So..." she prompts.

"So I persuaded him to drop that field of inquiry."

She stares at me, and I shrug and let it all out as fast as I can. 

"Scully sometimes - uh...I guess it's a matter of self preservation or...I don't know just...well you get a sixth sense about these things."

"Sixth sense?" she asks with curiosity, eyebrow raising.

"Yeah. You know that idiotic expression takes one to know one?" 

"Of course," she nods.

I sigh and shake my head in chagrin.

"Well, maybe it's not so idiotic. Scully - I've had a suspicion Kersh was in the closet for a while now. I mean gay and hiding it for whatever reasons he had to hide it. Or at least, maybe he swings both ways. Something along those lines anyway. I...I acted on my suspicions and used it against him in the shower. He confirmed what I thought and I used his guilt and fear over discovery to shut him up regarding anything he may think we were doing in the weight room - or anywhere else for that matter. I showed off my uh...well I more or less let him think I was pissed because I caught him sizing me up. I blackmailed him, Scully, plain and simple...so...that's about it I guess. Another fucking victory for Walter S. Skinner. Whore for the system. Fuck! I fucking hate myself for that hypocritical bullshit. I hate it, and I don't blame you if you hate my guts as well," I blurt out, pulling the thread out with a vicious snap.

Scully grabs my hand where it hovers above the couch. She caresses my knuckles gently and I meet her eyes. The compassion I see there almost undoes me. I feel like...I feel like salvation is floating in her crystal clear, blue eyes. My breath is caught in my throat and I can't speak at all. Scully speaks and I can't help it, I grab her hand and squeeze it like a drowning man looking for rescue.

"Walter...all of us have done something in the past that we...we hate ourselves for now. I mean God. I've...I've killed people. So have you. So has Mulder. What do you think that does to me? And...and I think in the future we're all going to do things that may be a lot worse. So....I can't...I can't hate you for something like trying to protect us. For trying to act as a bulwark against the coming darkness. If I did I'd have to hate Mulder and I'd have to really hate myself. God knows I've done enough of the same type of thing to qualify as a whore several times over," she shakes her head looking at our joined hands.

"Hey..." I protest, squeezing her hand again. She looks up at me in defiance.

"You are not a whore, Walter, neither am I, and neither is Mulder. We're all we've got in this and I can't let you do this to yourself, all right? Just...just cut it out, please," she hisses in desperation.

I pull her hand towards me and her body follows. She moves over and fits against me perfectly. I take her into my arms and she rests her head on my chest. I hug her close and rub her arm. We sigh together and then just sit in silence taking comfort in each other's warm presence.

After a time Scully touches my neck and then my jaw where my tendons are still popping and unpopping. I feel her fingers tracing my jawline. She scrapes over my evening beard stubble.

"You are so tense," she whispers.

I let the corner of my mouth curl up a little and she traces that curve as well.

"Story of my life," I shrug a little, clearing my throat to cover my usual knee jerk embarrassment at showing emotion in front of anyone. The reaction that keeps me thinking I'm less of man for showing anything that's a weakness in my mind. What a load of shit, right? Yeah, well sometimes I think my middle initial doesn't stand for Sergei, you know what I mean?

"Shift up," she commands with a tiny grin of her own. She moves back a little and leans into the couch back.

"What?" I reply, giving her a look of bemused confusion.

"Shift up and put your feet on my lap here," she gestures sitting Indian style.

I smile when I realize what she wants me to do. I lift my stocking clad feet up off the floor and place them down so she can cradle them against her stomach and in between her crossed legs. She starts to knead and flex my feet and I grunt in pleasure. Oh man how did she know I love to have my feet rubbed this way? God! Like I said - perceptive - or psychic. I gotta ask Mulder if he's clued into that X-Files possibility.

"Close your eyes, Walter and relax, this is on me," she smiles into my blissed out face.

"Yes, ma'am, Doctor," I groan. She chuckles, and I do shut my eyes.

After a while I can feel her rubbing the various pressure point on my feet. The ones that I know correspond to acupressure points I've read about in the past. I open my eyes slightly and squint at her in amusement.

"I didn't think you were into Asian homeopathic medical techniques, Doctor Scully."

"Well you'd be wrong. I have an appreciation for a great deal of homeopathic medicine. Besides - I read a book about acupressure that Mulder had in his apartment that time I was checking on him when he had pneumonia. I found it fascinating. Also - I like to have my feet rubbed too," she finishes, smiling shyly at me.

"Ah I see," I reply shutting my eyes again, "I'll file that away for future reference."

She continues on with the massage and finally I am very relaxed indeed. She stops at last and I open my eyes and look into hers. She caresses my calf and foot. There's no mistaking what she's doing then with her hands...and why. I study her face and there's no mistaking what she's offering me in her eyes.

"Walter I was serious when I said you meant a lot to me. I just wanted to let you know....that...that our night together in Crossroads was...was really very special...and..."

I remove my feet carefully from her lap and place them flat on the floor again. I can feel her watching me. I know what she wants to hear me say and...and I don't know how to tell her of my confusion over that night and the following day, over her and Mulder and I together, at all.

"What's wrong?" she asks quietly moving to sit a little more close.

"Scully I...that night meant a lot to me too. I was being truthful when I said you mean a lot to me now. It's just...I'm still very confused about that night. About...well...about this whole relationship with you, and me, and Mulder. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. I just can't...I'm still having some trouble here I guess," I shrug, miserable.

I hate admitting this to her. I mean...Christ. What guy...what person...wants to admit they're afraid of having sexual feelings for men and women both? I should probably go back to a counselor. I will if I can't reconcile this soon. It's a disservice to Scully and Mulder too for me to be this fucked up around them. Unfair and emotionally hurtful.

"Oh," she nods carefully.

"It's not that I'm not attracted to you or anything like that - because Jesus - I am. That's the crux of the matter I guess. I'm still having trouble reconciling how I can be attracted to you with the fact I thought I preferred men. I just got used to that idea and here I'm getting a hard on for a woman again."

I glance at her and her brow is furrowed. Her mouth not exactly frowning, but it's a tight line.

"I'm sorry," I shrug lamely, looking away.

"I understand. I...if you'd rather not be with me again I can accept it. I'll miss it but I can respect your feelings in the matter. I'll just have to deal with my desires in that area," she answers quietly, swallowing slightly.

I look back up at her. Her desire? Yes. And Mulder's desires and mine. Shit. What a mess.

"Scully I...this has always been hard for me - expressing strong emotion. Especially strong sexual emotions. Being sexual has been a....I...oh fuck it. I don't even know how to put this into words without knowing I'm going to insult, or hurt you. Either hurt you or make myself look like an asshole," I shake my head in self-disgust. 

I've placed both hands on my knees and I'm gripping them tight now. I'm staring at my knuckles as they whiten. Scully places her hand over my right hand.

"Please Walter. Try to explain. I...I'd like to know and I promise, I won't be insulted by what you have to say."

I take a hard swallow and look at her again.

"I can't just...I have trouble having casual sex with anyone, Scully. I always have had trouble. Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know - gee- I'm a guy. Men are supposed to add notches on their guns right? Want it 24/7 with anyone who's willing to give it up? Especially bald men. All that extra testosterone has to have us locked and loaded at all times, right?"

"Walter I don't..."

I interrupt her because now that I'm on a roll I want to get if all off my chest.

"Well it's bullshit as far as I'm concerned. I guess I'm conservative. A friggin' prude. Old fashioned. I'm sure that's what you're thinking. I know what this sounds like. But I can't help it. I just can't go with someone if there isn't some kind of...of commitment. I made that mistake once and look where it got me? No, there as to be love. I don't mean to belittle or criticize or demean our night in Crossroads Scully. I...I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it. I...but I question it...I question all of this now because I'm just completely and utterly lost and confused I guess. I...maybe I should see a counselor. I don't know what to think or feel a lot of the time. And that's not fair to you or Mulder either. 

I feel her hand rubbing mine in comfort.

"I guess part of the problem is that I have to be in love with someone and know that they love me in return before I can share everything with them - my inner most thoughts my...what I really am, Scully. I'm talking complete and total trust so I can share completely. Lose control. Pleasure my partner and myself to the fullest. Love and trust them with my life."

"And you have that commitment with Mulder?" she asks quietly.

"I know I do," I answer with a nod.

"And that's what this is about really, that....that you don't think I...you think this is about my wanting casual sex with you?" she asks carefully.

"Well...yes....I mean...." I falter for a moment at the look on her face. She's stunned, hurt. I press on, trying to just end it. Not caring if I'm even making my point anymore. My voice is very weak, "How could it be anything else but casual, Scully? You...you couldn't possibly love me. Be committed to me this soon that way. I...not me," I shake my head.

She withdraws her hand.

"Can you excuse me a minute. I...I need to use the bathroom."

I stare at her, incredulous, as she pulls back, gets up silently and leaves the living room. She walks stiff and straight, heading towards the bathroom.

"Scully?" I call after her. She keeps walking. Jesus. I get up and follow her quickly.

"Hey," I whisper, catching her by the arm. She pulls away, but I manage to turn her round. She's crying. Tears are streaming down her face.

"Hey," I repeat again. I don't know what to do. I have little or no clue what to do when a woman cries except offer them a Kleenex and bluster.

"Walter, just let me go to the bathroom, all right. I didn't want to do this in front of you. I'm...you're not the only one who finds it hard to discuss strong emotions. Sexual or otherwise, you know," she sniffs, "you don't have the corner on that particular hang-up." 

I nod and thumb away her tears.

"I'm sorry. I...I didn't want to hurt you."

"Stop saying you're sorry," she blurts, pushing me away.

I stand there helplessly while she starts to pace.

"And stop saying no one could love you. That you're worthless, unacceptable. I mean come on. God I am so sick of hearing you say that about yourself. You and Mulder. You're two of a kind sometimes with this *I am not worthy* bullshit. Lord God in heaven."

"I knew you'd be offended..." I begin.

She rounds on me, practically spitting she's so angry.

"You don't know anything. Nothing about what I'm feeling right now. What I have been feeling. I...I wanted to invite you here tonight to tell you some of what's been going on in my head. You think you're the only one who's confused here Walter S. Skinner? How confused do you think sweet little Catholic raised, skeptical, rational, stoic, Dana K. Scully is when she thinks she's falling in love with two men at the same time? When the thought of both of them making love to her at once makes her so hot she almost orgasms at her desk down in the damn basement office. When the thought of losing either one of them keeps her lying awake at night crying and shaking. When she can't get up the guts to tell...to tell the one she's just realizing she loves how much he means to her because she harbors these fears he'll reject her because he's going to leave with the other man she loves beyond reason and..."

"Scully I..."

"No DO NOT interrupt me! Let me finish!"

I make a placating gesture. She plunges on.

"How easy do you think it was for me to approach you? You're my boss! You're my lover's lover. You told me you were gay! Then all of a sudden, I get the idea you might be attracted to me...and the next thing I know you jump out of bed, and drag Mulder into the bathroom as if you were appalled by the whole situation. Do you have any idea what went through my mind? How screwed up I was with guilt? How do you think the little Catholic girl dealt with that? "

I step forward and grab her hard. Pull her close and she's hitting me in the chest. Pounding me with all her might. It's considerable might since she's been doing so well with her weight lifting program. I think I'll be bruised tomorrow. And I don't care. I hold her until she slows, stops, shudders and is finally still. Then I place my hand on her head and she rests her head against my chest and cries.

"Scully...I'm...sorry..I had no idea you felt like that. That wasn't about you, it was about Mulder and my part of this equation. I never meant to hurt you or imply anything....well anything like you said. It's my problem...my confusion. All I can say is...please forgive me." 

I feel tears leaking down my face as well. We stand there for what seems like forever, rubbing each others backs. Then she rocks away slightly and looks up at me.

"So, if you need to hear me say I love you...I...," she whispers, blinking back tears.

"I guess you just did," I smile down at her gently.

"Yes," she whispers, looking down again.

I cup her chin and tilt her face up. I bend down and kiss her tenderly on the lips. When our lips touch, my heart, mind and soul tell me what I know she says is true and I also know that...that I can admit I love her too.

I admit it but it hits me like a ton of bricks. Blood rushes into my head. It's as if the top of my skull is going to blow right off from the shear power of the emotion. I haven't been this overcome...this overwhelmed...well not since Baton Rouge and my first time with Mulder. My first night in Crossroads with Scully doesn't compare with the feeling of tremendous awakening and joy I'm experiencing in this moment. I realize why too. Because I denied I could be worthy of her love and affection. Worth her trust and respect. I was a fool. But I'm not anymore. And I want to celebrate it.

I pull back and look in her eyes. I hope she sees what I want her to know is the truth. I can barely speak. She touches my face and then, runs her mouth over, my cheek, half laughing and sobbing at the same time. I groan. It's almost a sound of pain but it's more the sound of a great dark hole being filled in. A part of me I never realized was still empty until now. I realize suddenly, and with incredible wonder, what Mulder has been getting at all along. We are truly three - the spokes of a wheel. All of us vital to our forward progress. Incomplete without the third. My heart sings with the concept and the fact that I understand yet another facet of my other lover at last.

I clasp Scully to my body, trail kisses up her neck to her ear and I whisper to her with all the passion that fills my soul.

"I love you, Scully. I love you too."

Our lips meet again and this time the kiss is deep, hungry, roving. Our hands rake over each other's bodies. We rock against each other in our combined heat. It's too much finally. We need to stop and gain some control so we can savor things more fully here. No need to rush. We have...well hell...we have the whole weekend. We pull back completely breathless and damp from sweat and accumulated tears. 

"God," I exclaim grinning at her. I'm grinning like an idiot and I could care less.

"Whew," she replies, fanning her breasts. That makes me laugh again. She giggles.

"Hot in here," I joke.

"No kidding," she smirks.

"Would you like something to drink? Another bourbon?"

"Any more wine left?" I ask raising an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"Good, let's take it in the bedroom."

She smiles at me with mischief in her eyes.

"I think that can be arranged. But...if you're staying the night what...I mean did you..."

"Oh, yeah. Uh...my gym bag's in the car. I have my other shaving kit, toiletries and such. I have some sweats too."

"We can launder your underwear uh -whatever....henever," she replies, smiling.

"Mission accomplished, agent," I tease her, taking her hand, "Should I go get my bag? I guess that might be better since it's dark out now," I suggest.

"All right. I'll buzz you back in."

A short time later...

Once again I stand in front of Scully's door, my makeshift over night bag in hand. She opens the door and I'm inside. We make the short trip to her bedroom. Both of us make another detour to the bathroom. I have to laugh. It's amazing what excitement will do to your system. But better to make a pit stop when you can. No kidding. 

So, Scully goes on ahead of me and we enter her bedroom. I've never been in her personal space like this before. Her inner sanctum as the saying goes. It's a nicely decorated bedroom. Light colored furniture. As I'm looking around she makes a little "oh" sound.

"Can you excuse me a second, Walter, I forgot something."

"Sure," I nod temporarily distracted with looking at Dana Scully's personal possessions. Scully leaves while I take it all in.

The bed's a Queen, not a King, but I think we'll manage. I'm not going to mind the togetherness. Uh uh. Twin night stands on either side of the bed. I notice she has her Smith and Wesson and her cell phone on the right night stand. That's a familiar site. Lamps on each night stand as well. A couple of chairs. One overstuffed one. A bookcase with what are probably her favorite books and some momentoes lies against one wall. There's a small CD player and speakers on the top Some framed photos next to the stereo. I walk over to take a look. I notice a 5 by 7 of her and Mulder together. It looks like a blow-up of a photo taken at some awful Bureau function. But they are posed together, his arm around her waist.

I get a sudden tight feeling in my throat. She has a small picture of me as well. I do recognize it. She took that one up in Crossroads. I'm standing on the deck stairs we built for Den and Phil. I'm very touched. I finger the photo. God, yeah we had a great time up there. As I'm reminiscing Scully comes up behind me and snakes her arms around my waist.

"I really did enjoy building that deck with you, and Den and Phil." she whispers kissing my back. I put the photo down and turn in her arms.

"It was prime," I reply huskily.

I notice she's brought some candles into the bedroom and put them in small holders on the dresser and the left nightstand.

"Do you mind candlelight?" she asks shyly.

"No...you...you look beautiful in flickering light."

She smiles. I remember how lovely she looked in the firelight that night I showed her my medallion. How her eyes danced in it.

She crosses back over to the dresser and picks up the match box she also left there. She lights all the candles carefully and then goes to the wall light switch. She turns off the lights and the room glows softly in a warm yellow light.

The wine bottle and two glasses are sitting between the candles on the dresser. I'm enthralled now so I watch her uncork the bottle again and fill the glasses. I imagine that's the last of it. But that's fine. We'll enjoy it. She crosses back to me and hands me my glass.

"Cheers, Walter. To Tripartite."

"Skoal. To Tripartite," I nod and we both drink deeply.

I watch her lick a little wine off her lower lip and at last I get that pleasant throb in my groin. I'm still a little slow in my arousal around Scully. I just think it's leftover confusion. My mind and body need to get in sync? Whatever. I know I want her now. All of me does.

"Would you like to play some music too?" she inquires since I'm standing next to the CD player.

"Oh. Well...if you'd like some."

"See if there's anything you like," she offers and then she goes back over to the bed.

I turn back around to give the suggestion my attention. I sip my wine again, and sit the glass down on the bookcase. I pick up a small stack of CD's that are sitting next to the player and start to flip through them. The second one from the top makes me bark a quick laugh.

"What?"

Scully asks from behind me.

"Hendrix. This one's mine," I reply looking down at the Jimi Hendrix CD. I know it's mine because it has the crack across the jewel case. The crack I caused by falling on it in a moment of passion between Mulder and me.

Scully's musical laugh greets my comment.

"I wondered. Mulder left it over here. I had a feeling it belonged to you."

"Yeah. Jimi," I nod, smiling with satisfaction. "The Man." I add. 

Scully's voice comes from behind me as I stare at the jewel case. The crazy cracked case reflects the candlelight, it shines, glinting almost seductively - just like Scully's voice.

"Den said you could sing Hendrix, Walter. Sing him really well. Would you sing for me? Would you sing for me now?"

I haven't sung for anyone sober in years. Sure I goofed around up in Crossroads, got drunk off my ass and won that karaoke contest. I sing in the shower, sure. But not...not like this, and certainly not for a woman.

"Scully....I..."

"Sing for me Walter," she purrs.

Oh lady. I'm done and happy to be. My cock twitches at that sound. I can't resist. I take out the CD and stab at the open button on the player.

The door opens and I slide the CD in. Hit Track Forward. Track number 9. I don't touch the volume. It's not too high. It'll be just fine.

The first guitar licks whine around the room. I step back but don't turn around. I tilt my head up and then I join Jimi Hendrix. I belt it out too because he can really wail. Voodoo Chile. I don't know. It just seemed to fit.

>>>Well I stand up next to a mountain

and I chop it down with the edge of my hand

Yeah<<<

>>>Well I stand up next to a mountain

and chop it down with the edge of my hand<<<

I get through the first two verses and I'm really letting it pour out. Christ I love this song. I shift and pivot on my heel to turn toward Scully for the final two verses.

>>>Well I pick up all the pieces and make an island

Might even raise a little sand

Yeah<<<

My eyes are closed at first with the effort of trying to struggle with both the song and the memories behind it. I'm trying to cope with the emotional connotations it will have from this point on...forever after. But then I open my eyes because I do want to see Scully's reaction. Man I hope she likes it. I'm really bawling my guts out. I open my eyes, and my mouth, and I sing out the last bit hard and loud.

>>>Cause I'm a Voodoo Chile

Lord knows I'm a Voodoo Chile<<<

Baby!

Oh God...she's taken off all her clothes and...Jesus God that's a beautiful, magical fucking sight. I lose my voice immediately after repeating "Oh Baby." The words come out in a strangled croak as Scully moves towards me, practically floating in one fluid motion across the floor. Oh shit. She stands before me, glowing and gloriously naked, carnal. Her face sensuous. I've never seen her like this - even up in Crossroads. It's...whoa it's phenomenal all right. Magnificent. Oh yeah. She's left her wine glass behind on the dresser. She reaches around past me and shuts off the CD player and the room is plunged into abrupt silence.

She stares up at me, seduction written in every line of her body. Her nipples are all ready erect. I bet if I stroked between her legs I'd find her wet. Soaking. I know I'm dripping for her. She trails a finger nail down my chest, toying with the buttons on my shirt. She continues over my stomach, my groin. I can feel her hit the scars that crisscross my flesh like they're so many speed bumps. Her fingers slide down over the front of my pants. The combination of her nails scraping over wool, cotton, and my swelling cock excites me even further. I hiss my arousal. She stops short of actually touching my zipper.

"Voodoo Chile," she croons in perfect counterpoint to my growling wail.

"Yeah, I'm your Voodoo Chile all right, baby," I husk at her.

She pins my eyes. She places her hands up on my shoulders and exerts enough pressure that her message is loud and clear. Down on your knees Walter. I'm only too happy to oblige.

I sink down before her, taking her shoulders and letting my hands run down her newly muscular biceps. God, that's good. Hard muscularity in a woman really cranks me up. Gets me hard in all the right places. She sighs as I pull her forward and bury my head between her breasts.

"God, yes," she hisses.

I slide my hands down and then over to her hips. As soon as her arms are free she takes my head in her hands and starts to stroke my scalp. She's murmuring too me. Words of love and just nonsense words that lovers have between them. I lave her tits, each nipple in turn. Sucking them up, making them even more erect. I move one hand over to lift her right breast so I can take even more of it into my mouth. She's rocking and stroking my head. She's moaning and I have to release her heavy flesh and move up to claim her mouth. To take that moan and swallow it whole. Make it my own and then return it to her so we're moaning together.

When we break apart I end up sliding my lips across her face and onto her ear.

"Whadda want, Scully? Anything. Tell me." I slur. I'm one fourth drunk on the bourbon and whine and three fourths drunk on Scully. Sex drunk ,and I want a whole lot more of this intoxicating beverage. 

"*Dana* want's you to go down on her," she grins into my upturned, sweating face. She pulls my head back, exposing my throat, and bending her head, licks and sucks at my Adams apple.

"Well, what *Dana* wants..." I groan. She releases my head. I push her backward towards the bed, walking on my knees as we go. When her legs hit the edge of the mattress, she sinks down on the bed and spreads her legs for me. I shift in between her thighs. I can see her sex glistening in the candlelight. Oh fuck yeah she's wet. God this is gonna taste so good.

I dive in without further hesitation and she cries out, bucking up into my nose. My glasses are thrown askew and I reach up, grabbing them and tossing them over her head so they land on the bed pillows. Fuck 'em. I don't need 'em to see this close up anyway. I'll get 'em later. I go back to licking between Dana's legs with total abandon and utter absorption in the task at hand.

She's writhing, whining, rotating her hips under my face. I rear up a little, drawing my tongue over her clit and then back down to plunge it inside her.

"God. Do that again," she hisses, moving her hands down to draw my head forward. I get to work using that technique until I feel her thigh muscles start to jump. Her breath is coming in short, sharp pants. I seem to remember this meaning she was close before so I shift, bringing up my hand. I work three fingers into her and then stroke in and out, fucking her with my hand while I keep up the mouth work on her clit. That's all she wrote. Two more pumps of my fingers and her body goes rigid, her hips rising up hard into my jaw.

"Uh..uh...uh..uh," she stutters. Her breath catches and she's silent then, stiff and her mouth opens with no sound coming out. I can feel her muscles clenching down on my hand. I sit up and work her clit with my other hand, fairly hard to bring her higher. At last she catches her breath and whines in pleasure.

"Jesus!" she gasps.

No kidding. I'm panting along with her and finally I lever up and lie next to her on the bed, taking her against me while she trembles and I try to recapture my racing lungs.

"That's it lover. Good. So good," I whisper.

"God. You were good," she whispers. She nods against my chest, kissing my now damp white shirt. She strokes over it and giggles. 

"You'd better get out of this, it's sticking to you anyway. Take it all off Walter. I want to see you now."

"Your wish is my command," I rumble moving back and sitting up on my knees.

"Oh, I like the sound of those words, I think," she smiles lazily at me.

"I bet you do," I growl.

She does rather look like the cat that ate the canary. Oh yeah. I want her to eat something all right. But it ain't no song bird.

I take off the wet dress shirt and toss it on the floor. The t-shirt comes off next and follows. No time for the Felix Unger act now. Nope, I'm ready, willing and able so it's drop 'em quick, and once more into the battle soldier. My guns at the ready.

Scully watches me with avid interest as I undo my belt, whip it through the belt loops, and toss it onto the floor. I have to get off the edge of the bed to yank my pants and underwear down, both at once. I step out of them and last but not least I rip off my socks. Then I turn and stand to face Scully where she's propped up on one elbow enjoying the show.

I have to say I stand a little taller tonight. My cock's jutting out like a metal rod for a change. Yup. We're on automatic tonight, agents. Yes sir. No manual transmission for Walter S. Skinner this evening.

She looks up at me and smiles. I can practically see her pupils dilate as she focuses on my crotch.

"Bring that over here."

"My pleasure."

"Oh, it will be," she chuckles.

As I walk over she sits up and drapes her legs over the edge of the bed. I end up standing in front of her, my cock pointing at her nose. She reaches forward and toys with my balls, rolling them around carefully, hefting them.

"These are beautiful," she nods.

"You have fantastic hands," I tell her, reaching down and caressing where she's stroking my scrotum.

She looks up and I see the love on her face. I move my hand up to her cheek and caress her there as well.

"And you have such brilliant eyes. So clear, so...full of life and intelligence."

I see her blushing a little.

"It's true," I chuckle, running my hand through her hair.

"Thank you Walter. I think you have kind eyes really. I mean you try to make them hard like steel but it doesn't always work. No, right now they look like two chocolate kisses."

I chuckle again.

"Walter..."

"Yes?"

"I...I want to take our time tonight. We have all night and...and all weekend really. I don't have any plans and I just want this to be about us giving each other as much pleasure as we can."

I nod, "I'd like that Dana. I'd like that very much."

She nods back at me, "You and I and Mulder have been in Hell so often, Walter. I just want tonight...well I want us to take each other to Heaven for a change if we can. Will you let me take you there, Walter? Do as I ask so we can go there together?"

"Yes," I answer simply, "I will."

"Can you last?" she whispers, "I mean I know older men...well...Mulder and I are working on that...his lasting longer but...can you hold back or would you like a condom?"

"I can hold back. I can tell you when I'm close. Why?"

She smiles up at me, her eyes dancing.

"Because the longer you can hold out, the more fun I'll have with this," she takes my cock up and strokes it.

"Oh yeah..."

"And when you do come you'll go off like a rocket."

"To Heaven..."

"Right. And hopefully I'll be going along for the ride."

"Oh yeah babe, you're going. I'll see to that too," I growl down at her.

"Good. Now don't come," she advises me sternly, toying with my erection.

"Count on it," I rumble.

God damn. Who'd a thought she likes to top too. You know - I could get to like this whole idea. Once in a while. Like I said variety is the spice of life. It's a total turn on too. Yeah. I like it. So what? Bite me. She will and I'll love that too.

Scully grips me firmly at the base with one hand. She works her mouth over the head of my dick and then I watch as she swallows me down.

"Oh Christ, yeah. Suck me," I groan.

She does, with finesse, and a technique that I'm beginning to think is a variation on Mulder's version. Different but just as superb. Scully uses more tongue whereas Mulder relies on pressure. Either way I'm rocking my hips in ecstasy, eyes closed, and my hands on Scully's shoulders in very short order.

"Oh, oh, oh," I mumble. I'm making myself very aware of every sensation so I can enjoy this to the hilt as well as obey Scully's commandment of *thou shalt not come*. Before I feel like I want to buck a lot harder to go for broke. I give her the verbal signal I've decided to use.

"Hold up," I gasp and she backs her head off, releasing me wetly. 

I stand there still leaking pre-cum so we're ok. The feeling of wanting to thrust hard is waning a bit as I get control of my breathing. But my whole body is tight. Tingling. It's pleasant but painful as well. I'm poised on the edge between pleasure and pain and it's exquisite.

"What about you?" I ask Scully. It's hardly fair to be the center of attention. Let her do all the work.

"Oh Walter, if you could only feel what this does for me," she croons seductively.

"I think I just did," I reply in a low voice, "that was wonderful. God woman you've got some talent."

"Why thank you. Want to find out what else I can do?"

"By all means."

Later still...

It's been a frenzy of almost continuous foreplay. We wind ourselves tighter and tighter, then ease off - and repeat the process over, and then over again. Both of us are almost out of our minds with the endorphin rush. We communicate with grunts, moans, gestures, short commands. Or we just grab what we want to have touch where, and go at it again.

My cock in her mouth, between her breasts, in the cleft of her ass. She shakes her head *no* when I touch her anus experimentally. Ok, so we're not going there. She tells me she prefers not to do it and Mulder, respects her wishes. She has no problem giving that pleasure. She's just not into receiving. I can understand. I appreciate Scully having the guts to admit it. I kiss her passionately and I know that I'll abide by her wishes. Then I go down on her again, taking her to the point just before she's going over, but pulling back when she yells hold up. Now we're both playing the game. I grin and so does she.

Scully takes a bottle of scented oil out of her night stand. Sandalwood. We begin to use that to lube up our bodies. We sit across from each other - but very close, and slide our hands smoothly over our skin. We do it simultaneously to each other and watch our panting, gasping delight.

"Oh babe, Jesus, Jesus," I moan over and over as Scully rubs my cock and balls in her hands.

And still neither one of us will come. I stick to the bargain and so does she.

Finally we're both slick with sweat, oil, pre-cum, and Dana's natural juices. I'm lying on my back almost lost in the most unbelievable erotic experience I've ever had in my life. My hands are stretched back and I'm holding on to the bars of the head board just to ground myself to something so I don't fall off the edge of the world.

"Do you do this for Mulder?" I ask Scully hoarsely.

"Yes. We...this is how we sometimes spend a whole weekend. Especially after a tough case," she pants, lying flat next to me. I can see her rib cage rising and falling. "We just need to...to connect again and feel as alive as possible," she adds, breathing roughly.

"God. It's...fucking fantastic. But, Dana I can't hold out much longer. I...I gotta come."

"Oh I think we're about ready for blast off, yes," she pants again.

"Woman, you're too much," I laugh, turning to face her. She rolls to face me as well and we begin to run our hands over each other again.

"You never thought I'd be like this in a million years, did you?" she replies, moaning low as I finger her nipples. They're covered in oil and very sensitive now.

"Hell no. Not under those prim and proper suit coats and skirts, or pant suits you wear. I thought you were a conservative, by the book tight ass just like me, who...uhhhhhGod," I gasp as she slides down my body licking and kissing as she goes. I throw my hands up again and grab the headboard, straining for control.

"But you love me this way, don't you Walter?" she laughs.

"Fuck yesss...uhhhhOH!" I cry out as she engulfs my cock again. She starts to suck, and suck hard. I glance down and see her hollowing her cheeks. She's fantastic. Totally wanton, gone. So am I. Almost too far again.

"No!" I gasp. If she keeps it up it's all over. And I wanna fuck her. Fuck her inside really bad.

She lets go and pulls herself up my body.

"I want you, Dana. Bad. I wanna fuck you, lover. Come on. Let me before I lose it," I plead, laughing, shaking and sobbing all at the same time.

"Yes. Yeah. S'time..." she pants.

Both of us are fumbling in haste now. It's comical, She's all arms and legs and I'm just long legs flailing because I'm still clutching the head board for dear life. We're laughing. Gasping some more.

"How? Dana..." I want to know how she wants this. I suspect she wants it on top given the trend tonight. She likes that control and I don't have to worry about crushing her. Besides the view is fucking fantastic for me. And as I said - if she wants to top - fuck - I'm there. Something deep down inside me screams to give up control tonight. Just let her do it. Do me and tell me whatever she wants me to do to make this the best for us both.

She smiles wickedly and then climbs up and over my thighs as I suspected she would. I bring my hands off the headboard and up to grip her arms to steady her.

"No, hold the head board. I want to see your arms tight like that so I can run my hands over those hard muscles," she gasps.

I grab the posts tight and stretch up.

"Like this?"

"God yes. You look so good," she whispers.

I smile knowingly at her. She sees I realize what she's about tonight. My playful Master and I want it. Crave it. She returns the knowing smile and moves forward to poise over my erection.

"It's all yours babe," I encourage her, moaning as she takes me and does all the work herself.

"Yes, it is," she affirms, licking her lips.

She positions my cock at her entrance and then shifts a bit into position. Then I watch, gasping as she sinks down on me, slowly.

"Oh fuck. Fuck yes. God damn you're nice and tight," I hiss between my teeth.

"Uh...I wonder why," she moans with pleasure.

Sure it's a tight fit all right. But after the hour and half of driving each other out of our minds, she's more than capable of taking my size.

"You can handle it," I rumble, "you can more than take it."

"You know it," she hisses.

I arch my hips up just a little bit to help her along.

"Oh, good...Feels good," she whispers, and then she's sitting, flush with my groin at last.

Everything is very still. Scully runs her hands over my groin, caressing my scars.

She runs her hands up to my arms and then over them, round them, feeling my muscles. I flex my forearms by gripping harder and she smiles in appreciation.

"I knew I'd like it. Your arms...I mean," she trills.

"Yeah, it's a rush for me too, babe," I grin.

I watch her face as she moves back and sits up again. She rests her hands on my groin. Waves of pleasure pass over her features. She tilts her head back a little and swallows hard. Her hair is wet and perspiration is pooled a little between her taunt breasts. A flush spreads over her chest and neck and once again I see those tiny freckles. God, she is just so rare. I smile like the Cheshire Cat when she looks back down at me.

"You should be pleased with yourself," she grins, running her hands into my chest hair. She flicks my nipples and I wriggle a little, "You've been a good boy. I can't even tell you how great this is."

"You please me," I whisper, "I love you, Dana"

"God, Walter I...I never thought you...that we..."

"It's ok. I don't think either of us expected this, Dana. But it's right. It's going to work and...and it sure as hell feels wonderful. Christ. No shit."

She nods her head, sucking on her lower lip.

"I love you too. I love having you inside me."

"You're beautiful. I love being here too," I smile, punctuating my words with a tiny thrust of my hips.

She sighs with pleasure. Then she fixes me with a questioning look and speaks breathlessly.

"Can you do it and still hold on?" she whispers, gesturing toward the headboard. She's challenging me with her voice. She runs her hands over my groin again, up onto my chest and then bends forward a little to feel my taunt arm muscles again where I stretch to hold onto the wood above my head.

"Hard and fast or soft and slow?" I ask her raising an eyebrow. 

"What do you think?" she replies, clenching her thighs tight against my hips.

"Ok. Hang on baby. This is gonna be some trip," I warn her.

"Don't worry. I'll keep up," she laughs, throwing her head back. 

I grip the headboard hard as she pulls halfway off my hard on and then sinks back fast, crying out in pleasure. We start to move rapidly right away, pumping up against each other, hitting flesh against flesh with audible slapping sounds.

"GodGodGod!" I murmur over and over as she slides up and down, knocking my nuts on the downstroke.

"Yes...Yes...Fuck me," Scully whines. She's still stroking my groin. my chest, nipples. Up and down my arms. It's incredible and I'm rolling my hips as well, and grunting with each thrust.

"Uh, Yeah. I'll fuck you. Move. Do it."

"I love it. You're so hard."

"Yeah. You got me that way, baby. Hot and hard. Fuck, yeah."

I arch up and meet her next downward movement, thrusting in deep enough to just brush her cervix. I pull back down so I don't hurt her. But the feeling of my dick hitting it makes me cry out incoherently.

"Walter!" she cries with me, biting her lower lip and nodding as she plunges up and down again.

After that we go mostly pre-verbal. Just grunts, moans a few more curses. I feel my balls swelling almost impossibly tight. They're drawing up and I know they're going to do their duty any second now. 

Finally at the very end we're throwing ourselves together like a fucking jackhammer. Scully cries out for me to take her hips. I let go of the headboard and grab her, steadying her so she can angle just right. All along she's been working her clit that way. But, I do manage to get between us to rub her swollen flesh with swift tugging strokes. It sends he over immediately and she arches back screaming and thrusting against me desperately. Her hips are pounding into my thighs. Her inner muscles clench me tight and I gasp hard with the sensation.

"DANA!" I shout. I thrust up rapidly. Three more quick strokes and I see nothing but white light and hear nothing but a roaring buzz in my ears. I shut my eyes tight and watch the spinning fireworks behind my eyelids. I'm distantly aware of every muscle in my body beginning to spasm. It really is a total body convulsion. My balls contract and I can feel my cum filling Dana. It's backflowing out a little because I *am* spurting like a rocket. I'm aware I'm making some kind of guttural sound. The waves of searing ecstasy that arc through me are indescribable and I call out to Dana, holding her hips, trying to convey my love and the joy that's she's giving me.

I can hear her then, sobbing with her own pleasure. Crying my name, how good I look, how handsome, powerful, how much she loves me. She's holding my arms as I bow up towards her. Dana was right. She was so right. This is Heaven and at the end I see my angel to prove it.

We collapse together sideways, Dana's legs, wrapped around my waist. Her arms pulling me close into her embrace.

I'm moaning, not quite able to speak yet. She rains kisses on my face, and scalp as I struggle to breathe normally again.

"Whoa, whoa," I cough, laughing.

She's giggling, "The rooms spinning."

"No shit. Come here," I laugh, pulling her close. We lie face to face and I run my hands through her damp hair. My cock is rapidly growing flaccid and I shift a little thinking I should pull out.

"Stay," She whispers, "just a second, ok?"

"Ok," I whisper back.

"Hold me. I like this," I smile into her hair, running one hand over the leg that traps my outer hip.

We lie together, connected for just a short time, feeling each others breathing calm and become regular again. Finally she moves back and I run my hand down to steady myself so she can pull off me. My cock falls limp and sticky against my thigh.

Both of us just lie there, staring at each other in silence. We still touch and stroke each other lightly. Gentling our twitching muscles. When we're ready, I shift onto my back and Scully lies on my chest. Both of us are content and exhausted but it's the best. I haven't come this hard with a woman in years -well - maybe never. This was every bit as good as with Mulder. Different but just as loving, and just as sweet.

"I guess we know that was good," Scully breathes out at last.

"Nooooo, do tell," I chuckle.

"The bed's a mess," she giggles.

"We're all sticky," I laugh, kissing her hair, "You wanna shower?" 

I glance at her alarm clock. 3 AM. I grin. We've been fucking all night. Well I haven't done that in a while either. I guess we won't have to worry about a shower in the morning.

"I think a quick one, yes," she looks down at her sweat and semen streaked thighs.

"Go first, I...is that your linen closet out in the hall?"

"Yes."

"I'll change the sheets while you shower then," I volunteer. If I can crawl out there. Mutherfuck I'm beat. But man that's just fine. 

She kisses my chest.

"Thank you. You are a true gentleman," she says, levering off me to get up.

I grasp her arm before she pulls away.

"Dana...I...thanks. Really. For everything. For being you and for...for being so understanding. For giving me a night I won't forget...ever."

She smiles gently, looks down, shy again. Dana Scully is a personality, I'll tell you. She unfolds like a flower. A puzzle slowly solving itself in my mind. I like this contrast in her a great deal. The contrast between her enjoyment in bed and her more stoic public persona.

It's obvious that she enjoys sex. No question. Under the right circumstances and with the right person, she's willing to give herself completely. To share all and accept all in return. She's playful, wanton, free and a hell of fuck to be blunt about it. But at other times, she's much more reserved, formal, almost shy. We have that in common. I recognize it and I admire it because to me - it's a strength. I've considered it a strong point in myself, and also a strong point in a really good agent.

The combination of passion and reserve is a talent that she has and as much as I love Mulder - he does lack this trait I admire so much. But...it's important that he does lack it. It's his intuitive talents that need free reign. His passions are worn on his sleeve and they need to be because that's what works for him. And all in all, this is why we will all fit together so well. We really do compliment each other. Scully and I are similar enough that we can support each other. And we can work to ground Mulder - give him the anchor he needs to function. I smile over this idea as I stare into Scully's downcast face.

"Hey," I rumble, releasing her arm and gently pushing up her chin, "take the compliment, agent. I don't give them that often," I growl in my best AD voice.

She laughs, grabs my hand and kisses it with great feeling. Then she bounces back off the bed with more energy then I could ever hope to have at this moment. She stands next to the bed for a second.

"Thank you, Walter," she nods gravely.

"Don't mention it. Now go get your shower."

xXx

Saturday, June 19, 1999. 6 AM. Dana Scully's apartment bedroom. Georgetown.

Phone? I'm going to kill whoever that is on the fucking phone, I think, staring blearily at the alarm clock.

I hear Scully fumbling on the night stand. Grabbing for her loudly beeping cell phone.

"Shit," she curses, almost knocking it off.

She flips it open, thumbs the *Phone* button and rams the phone to her ear.

"Scully," she blurts into it.

"What's wrong?" she asks in alarm struggling to sit up.

I'm lurching to sit up as well. I'm thinking something must have happened to her family...or...Christ! Mulder!

Her face calms instantly however.

"Oh...Mulder. I...I miss you too," she smiles tenderly.

He must have called her because he just wanted to hear her voice. My heart fills with my love for him too. Sometimes he can be genuinely considerate and wonderfully romantic. Hey, I like a little romance. Get used to it.

"Flipped a coin?" Scully asks, chuckling, "Well, I'm flattered." 

"Oh, couldn't reach him though?" she grins glancing at me. I reach over to the other night stand and snag my glasses from the spot they ended up in last night. I put them on, adjusting them on my nose. Well, you know how it is with glasses, right? Sometimes you can't hear without them on?

I raise an eyebrow and she mouths *Mulder tried to call you*. I smile. I think Monster boy is about to get a little surprise.

"Hmmm? Oh no - uh - I don't think he's on recharge" she giggles, "....although it's a possibility. Hang on a sec," she smirks. She hands me the phone.

"Hey, monster boy," I growl into the receiver. I can hear the whoop of laughter even when I hold the phone out to keep myself from going deaf.

"You dog!" he laughs as I place the phone back to my ear.

"Fuck you," I laugh.

"Oh and I will too - I have to make up for lost time," he bubbles with delight.

"So, missed us huh?" I ask, smiling.

He goes quiet on the other end. I hear a little sigh.

"Yeah. I really missed you both. I told Scully I flipped a coin to pick which of you to call first. I really couldn't decide."

"So I gathered. I'm flattered too babe," I purr at him. I know he likes that low growling purr. I can practically feel him vibrating with excitement on the other end of the line.

"So are you two simpatico?" he asks with love in his voice.

I glance at Scully's sleepy but joyfully satiated face and I nod to myself.

"Yeah, that's a roger, good buddy. I think we're on the same page now."

Scully smacks my shoulder and I laugh.

"Hold on baby," I chuckle into the phone. I look over at Scully and she yawns. I mute the phone.

"Mr. Wayne, tell the Boy Wonder I'm going back to sleep. Tell him I'm well fucked and I can not possibly keep my eyes open another second," she giggles.

I grin and thumb the mute button as she turns over and settles down under the covers.

"Bat Woman said to tell you she's well fucked and passing out. So, she'll catch you later."

"Oh yeah. She's gonna catch it all right," he replies, the lusty grin obvious in his voice, "I can see I'd better remember to take my vitamins."

"Advisable," I nod, feeling my own tired muscles.

"So...it's going well?" he asks again, making small talk.

"Yeah. We have some stuff to tell you about work - but it can wait. Did it go ok with the lawyers - with your mother?" I wince a little. I really have a hard time liking Teena Mulder.

"Teena 1, Lawyers zip, so yeah, it's fine. She's in a victorious good mood so we're getting on fairly smoothly."

"Good," I nod, "So, you'll be back Tuesday, right?"

"Yup. With bells on."

"...your dick," I rumble laughter into the phone.

"Hmmm. Yes, my dick," I hear him giggle.

It's suddenly quiet on the other end of the line. Then, I hear a metallic sound coming over the air waves. It's the tell tale sound of a zipper being pulled down. Christ he's up and dressed at 6 AM? Teena must really be cracking the whip. I hear a soft, wet sound. Jesus he's...oh man.

I hear him breathe raggedly. I grin despite the fact my ears are reddening. I'm about to speak but he beats me too it. I smile wide at his gasping words.

"So, Walter....what are you wearing?"

xXx

-THE END OF THIS STORY-

 

* * *

 

TITLE: Weights and Measures  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: VRA

RATING: NC-17 for discussion of alternative sexual issues and some language. SK/SC, M/SK, M/SK/SC. This vignette deals with Slash and Het Sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: Dana Scully reflects on her weekend with Walter Skinner. This story takes place immediately after "Lifting Weights". Scully explores her part in the relationship that began in "The Threefold Charm". This story is a short piece in the "Baton Rouge" series. Obviously you may want to read the series to understand this narrative. The "Baton Rouge" series can be found on my web site at: http://www.squidge.org/3wstop  
or my mirror site at: http://members.tripod.com/frogdoggie/fic.html 

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Sixth season just before Two Father's/One Son I think - in my timeline. ROFL. Oh - and NO SR819! So, I've kind of reinvented the mytharc for my AU. Sorry if that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind. 

KEYWORDS: vignette slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.

Please ask me before you archive my work. I usually don't mind but I do like to know where my stories are going. Thanks much.

*Authors note: One of the greatest challenges for an author is to get into the head of and write about a character of the opposite gender. Scully has been a challenge and pleasure for me to write in this series. I have brought her along slowly here - perhaps a little slower then some people have thought I should. But,

I had my reasons.

Of course this is also an Alternate Universe. Scully reacts the way she does in order to fit this AU. But, I am trying to keep her reactions as an extension of her character from the show. We all take liberties with the characters when we're writing them in order to have them fit into our plot lines IMHO. So, I will hope that you understand why I am writing Scully the way I'm writing her. But, as for hearing from her - never fear. I have a feeling we'll be hearing more from her. Like right here and now...

Thanks to Crash and Mik for help. Crash with Scully this go around. Mik for being there. You were an enormous help, friends and fellow authors.

Written in April of 1999

* * *

Weights and Measures by frogdoggie

"Above all else, silence, the crystallization of the soul sleeping in peace far from the present; sacred silence, father of dreams; sweet taciturnity which allows us to hear the inner melody."

  * Camille Mauclair (L'Art en Silence) 



Journal of Dana Katherine Scully

Monday, June 14, 1999

There's something aesthetically pleasing about a leather bound journal. An old fashioned, handmade journal in which one pens their innermost thoughts, wishes, dreams, hopes and desires. The written verisimilitudes of one's lifetime contained between elegance has a deep satisfying appeal.

The tactile sense of just the journal itself may be one of the reasons I've continued to reveal myself in these pages over the years. Somehow, the stylish venue for my thoughts is almost as equally important as their tenor, their measure and their weight. 

So, I write in this book and I sometimes marvel at the outer as well as the inner sum and substance I suppose.

I can't deny also that it is undeniably relaxing to write in this journal. To write in script. Pen my musings in long hand with an elegant pen over finely made paper. Yes, there is something calming about the act of writing with finely tooled, appropriate writing implements. Just as there is a benefit to using fine surgical steel in a way. Both give you confidence. Center you. Give you balance. Calm you. And I relish that calmness amidst the turmoil that so often marks my days.

I smile even now as I grip this pen. It's a fountain pen. Yes, an old fashioned writing implement. Well, not completely archaic. It contains a replaceable cartridge. I don't have to use an ink well to dip my pen in before I can continue my words or a line. But somehow the idea is archaic and perhaps suitable to me as well. It was a gift from Mulder you see. And in many ways Mulder still thinks of me as...well...as coming from another age, perhaps. The Age of Reason he's quipped in the past. Words said in jest often have a deeper meaning. A deeper significance.

I finger the pen and turn it to the side to see the words engraved upon it.

"Silence is Golden"

I'm not sure if Mulder meant it as dry joke. He's got that wicked, bent sense of humor. It may have been a joke....or he may have considered it to be my motto in life. Possibly a combination of both those ideas. He did give me the pen close on the heels of my telling him about Sister Mary Monica. A story that was one part the comedy "Sister Act " with Whoopi Goldberg, and one part "The Devils". Ever see that Ken Russell film? Well Mulder did. But I digress...

Yes. I remember those words well. The motto was emblazoned on a plaque above the blackboard in Sister Mary Monica's first grade class. My first grade class. Never underestimate the powers of a teacher to mold the minds of the young. Especially if the teacher is a nun and the minds are the minds of young Catholic women.

"Silence is Golden". Three words my father valued as well. Silence...stoicism in the face of adversity or awkward social situations, was reinforced by Sister Mary Monica and a platoon of nuns over the years. Dana Katherine Scully learned the lesson and she learned it well. Good girls (or sailors as my father was fond of saying), kept their counsel until they were very sure they shouldn't keep silent any longer. Until they were sure they had the facts and could make a successful case.

It was rude to speak out of line. Rude and impolite for both genders at least according to Ahab. I do give my father credit (well...my mother had a lot to do with this item as well) - for being an equal opportunity backbone builder in regards to this issue. Yes, Melissa, Bill, Charles and I were all impressed with the idea that we did not go into the debate battle without being first sure of our facts, and second sure we would win. One rather followed the other, of course. Or so we were lead to believe.

Over the years I think this one lesson stuck with me. My father and the myriad nuns who reinforced the teaching insured that it would. If it hadn't stuck, I believe I would never be able to act as Mulder's voice of reason. His sounding board. His good debater. I would never be able to keep him at least partially grounded in reality. Kept him honest as he said. So I see my tendencies towards stoic silence as an asset in many way.

I also see it as a hindrance.

God! How long did I twist in the wind - suffering in silence - while I tried to cope with this...this Tripartite relationship? I can't believe how long I kept my mouth shut. I was guilty about it as well as disgusted with myself over it. How could I be so spineless? Yes - I thought I was one part coward and one part fool. Because for better or worse -in my mind at least - a byproduct of "Silence is Golden" is also "Fools Suffer in Silence." I've just been accustomed as a woman in a man's world to fighting for every inch of professional space I can get. And when that tendency conflicts with my father's and the nun's tenants? Well...you figure it out. What do you think that does to my head?

But...wasn't I an exemplary Scully? I mean...this was the epitome of stoicism - of keeping ones counsel in a very awkward situation until I had all my ducks in a row wasn't it? Ahab and Sister Monica would have been proud. I was anything but proud of myself. I was sick to my stomach.

I had strong feelings about the Tripartite agreement. I was in agony over it. Confused, hurt and...ok...jealous. But could I tell Mulder? No. Could I tell Walter? No! I remained the good sailor adhering to that World War two poster slogan that said "loose lips sink ships". Yes - Dana didn't want to rock the boat because she was afraid she'd hurt her lover, her partner, her friend. Fox Mulder. The only man, at the time, she could ever see loving and being with for the rest of her life.

I mean it wasn't that long ago that Mulder and I became lovers. And that was a revelation in and of itself for me. An epiphany in a way I suppose. Before Mulder I knew I enjoyed sex. Oh yes - I do, you know. I always have. Stoicism in public never translated into stoicism in private, in bed. But...the few men I had as lovers in the past were...shall we say...less than satisfying? Inept and inconsiderate might be closer to the mark in describing them in bed. Selfish dolts whose egotism I unfortunately didn't find out about until after we were horizontal.

Well, I was young and dumb back then. I was smarter when it came to men by the time I met Fox Mulder. But I waited a long time before I took that final step of letting him into my life and my body completely. I mean once bitten, twice shy, you know? And Mulder was...well he was so complicated.

But when we did finally get to that night together. My God - it was incendiary. I never realized just what I'd been missing. Sexual ecstasy for starters. Love, trust, caring, commitment and true sharing before, during and after. I don't know if it was just because Mulder is a total sexual hedonist, or if for some reason we just clicked once we were in bed. Whether we were really, truly soulmates and hadn't realized it until we made that final connection. But whatever the reason - Mulder and I are now true soulmates. There is not doubt that we're joined in mind, body and soul. Part of me would die if I lost him. I know I may have to face that some day realistically when death parts us. But...until then...I'm going to hang onto him as hard as if I can.

So, I was so afraid I'd lose him over this situation. At first because I couldn't quite handle the implications of his love for Walter Skinner. I thought he'd end up preferring Walter for some reason...leaving me for him eventually. And then because I couldn't understand how in the hell he could expect me to get into bed and make love with them both.

I mean come on Mulder - this is little Catholic raised Dana Scully here. What do you think Father O'Malley would say about a menage a trois? A menage in which one man claims he's gay, one bisexual and the woman hasn't got a clue what she wants by that point. I couldn't even tell him something like that at confession. The old war-horse would probably have a heart attack. And I'm not even going to get into what my family would think about the idea. I mean my mother and Charlie might be in shock and then try to accept it because they love me unconditionally. But Bill? Uh...let's not even go there.

I was furious with Mulder and Walter on Halloween. Their insensitive disregard for me and my feelings. That night in the hotel? Good Lord. I mean how could they even have considered making love after...when it was certain I'd hear and...oh never mind. It was hurtful and I was incensed over seeing them together. Doubly angry when Mulder tried to turn my anger back on me and accuse me of being in the wrong. I came very close to ending it with Mulder right there. To leaving him to Walter and washing my hands of him as a lover. And you know what's ironic? I thought maybe I should because it would make him happy. Save him. Whatever. And even more ironic? I was going to ditch his ass in bed but still try to stick with him as a friend and on the job because I do value the work - his quest. Boy, talk about the good soldier. As Walter would say - fuckin' A.

Walter! Well...needless to say things have changed between Walter Skinner and I haven't they? Mother Mary. But you know, in hindsight I think that it was Walter who finally got me to go beyond that "Silence is Golden" motto. Ironic again isn't it in view of the fact that I've probably seen him as a father figure for close to 6 years? Winced in fear or chagrin in his presence more than once. Worked like a dog to please him on the job. Yes, Walter and I were into that boss, subordinate thing very well. I think we were both caught up in it quite frankly. I'm almost surprised we got past it.

But to be honest while I saw him as a father figure I viewed him another way also. Yes - ok - he was a fantasy as well. Like I told him - sure I looked. He's always been attractive to me on that level that says "oooh, nice ass." You know...a butt to die for. Muscles. Hey...that has a certain appeal too. So, I'd sit in his office and tremble and it wasn't always caused by his ranting at Mulder and I over some line in our expense report.

But I never pursued the fantasy. Why? Because I didn't have all the facts. I would have never imagined that night in Crossroads would ever enter his mind. I never thought he even gave me a second glance. And I sure as hell never thought he would after he became Mulder's lover.

I mean the man was gay right? Mulder may be bi but Walter insisted he was gay to me so...if it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck? I have to take some things at face value for crying out loud. So I was wrong? Maybe it was very lucky I was in error. Certainly it was fortuitous - and you know what. I thank God it was too - now.

So...why did I feel like a total, gibbering idiot in Crossroads? A fool for love? I'm letting out a heavy sigh here. At the time I felt like screaming my lungs out. You see I had a bit of a problem reconciling seeing this man, Walter Skinner, as a surrogate father, a boss, my bisexual partner's lover and then...as a potential lover as well. I mean...wouldn't you? Oh sure...I could get past the father/boss thing. I think I probably had worked through most of that issue by that point. But having two lovers? The fact that one was bisexual and the other insisted he was homosexual? Can't you understand why that might be trouble here? Well you could if you were raised Catholic. I'm sorry to rally round that point again - but really, for me it's a significant one.

Falling in love with a bisexual man is one thing. But falling in love with a gay man, with Walter Skinner doubled my woes. I mean falling in love with two men...and then having that love be...so...unconventional flies in the face of every conventional teaching of the Catholic church. The church has been an integral part of my life, on and off, since birth. So, as much as I hate to admit it - yes - the Church's views on sexual matters, including homosexuality, still effect me.

I did feel like a fool, and yes...God help me...a sinner. I felt like so many things...all of them telling me I was wrong or improper. I feel terrible to pen those words. Terrible because I don't think it's right to feel that way. No, I don't. Not any more.

I simply couldn't any more. I couldn't deny what my heart and soul were telling me about Walter Skinner. I couldn't see it as wrong to be falling in love with him. He's a good man. A decent man despite tremendous obstacles to that decency being thrown up in his path. 

I realized that the man himself, and the relationship I was beginning to know I wanted with him (as well as the relationship we both had with Mulder), was worth pursuing and preserving. It was at least worth acknowledging without guilt or approbation. I can not believe that a God, any God, would deny love this strong - no matter who is involved in the equation. What it came down to basically was that one thing. Love. I knew I loved Walter as much as I loved Mulder. I couldn't deny it and I was starting to realize there wasn't any reason I should.

Walter has proven to be a peacemaker more than once in this relationship. He had a big part in my not leaving Mulder all together. My coming to Crossroads for Christmas had been his idea and in retrospect I was exceedingly grateful for him helping to heal the breach between Mulder and me.

Then Walter and I began to heal the breach between ourselves. I'm sure deep down I still harbored a certain amount of mistrust regarding Walter Skinner. Even though I knew consciously by the time we sat in the kitchen up in Crossroads last Christmas - that Walter Skinner was as trustworthy as me and Mulder too. He was in the battle on our side and no other. But still...I wasn't completely comfortable with him for that reason and of course the employee, supervisor idea as well. Father figure. Well, I guess you get the point. We had issues.

But we dealt with them. We became friends. Confidants. Boy we both needed that support when it came to dealing with Mulder at times. Walter has an understanding of Mulder from a slightly different direction and perspective than I do. I think when we blend our Mulder coping techniques and experiences we can almost keep him on the right emotional course. I do know he's been functioning a lot better since he's been with us both. He's still driven - but he's not driving over the edge nearly as much.

So Walter and I became friends. And as we grew closer...well...God I'm still not sure what happened there. As I mentioned Mulder had confessed his desire to have us all together as lovers. He had a deep seated need for that type of joining. I don't pretend to understand it fully. I'm not a psychologist. He is a psychologist and I know he doesn't understand it fully either.

But it's a bond he needed desperately to form. I can only view the results to know that it was a necessity for him. He has been a different man since that day in Crossroads when the three of us made our first hesitant attempts to love each other.

The triplets idea was something that boggled my mind however. It wasn't a natural event for me to consider participating in at all. Especially when I considered that Walter had repeatedly said he was gay - that he wasn't interested in women sexually any longer.

Then we went to Crossroads together in June. During our stay there I kept getting signals from him. Oh, I knew he was missing Mulder tremendously - almost in agony over it as a matter of fact. Hurting as much as I was because Mulder was in Massachusetts and not in Maine. But even so...I sensed a desire...a real effort on his part to not ruin my vacation over it. I appreciated having him do that for me. I automatically felt a renewed warmth and friendship for him. I could tell he was starting to feel that for me too. For the first time I didn't see him as my boss - or ex-boss by this time. I saw him as a man - a good man and someone I could grow to like very much. And of course, maybe it was because he wasn't really our boss anymore that I finally felt I could approach him as a man and a friend as well.

So, in Crossroads, when I realized I was starting to have very strong sexual feelings for Walter I didn't know what to do. Here I was just realizing or admitting we could be fast friends and...wham...my hormones jumped up and said - hello Dana! Get in his pants. You know you want him. Go for it girl.

To say it was a little disconcerting would have been an understatement. Here I was looking at his ass and thinking....gee...maybe I could give Mulder's idea a shot. Or at least part of it...here and now...soon. My hormones were very insistent but my brain was shouting, "Hey! Wait one minute! Down girl! Down!" I mean it was very embarrassing and confusing. I felt like a hypocrite. Not to mention delusional. Like I said - the man's gay, right?

Well...on top of everything else and making matters worse, was the fact I sensed he was possibly becoming attracted to me. What the hell is going on here Walter? I wasn't sure. I could tell he wasn't sure. And since no one was sure of anything here...Dana Scully was badly in need of getting her ducks in a row again. One of us had too - and given my background guess which one I thought should be the little investigator and take the first step? So...

I took a big risk that night up in Crossroads. It was perhaps the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. I'm sure my dose of Tequila courage helped me make the decision. But in truth, I was way ahead of any shot of liquor in the "I want to believe" department. Way ahead of things before Walter and I got to the guest bedroom in Dragon's Roost that night. Because really - my thirst for knowledge is just as strong as Mulder's thirst. Maybe even stronger in this particular case. Stronger because it would involve finding out a very important fact about my reality as well as involving a very big leap into finding out about the unknown in Walter Skinner.

So I came onto Walter. I almost made a mess of it. I have to be honest and admit I had no clue as to how to really go about coming on to him. How to go about coming on to a gay man? Yeah, right. Well I was hoping desperately that my instincts were right and Walter was on the fence on that point. Because if he hadn't been I would have fallen flat on my face.

And Jesus - What was he going to think about it anyway even if he was wavering towards walking the straight and narrow again? Would he think I was drunk out of my mind? Crazy? Would my desire offend him? I didn't want to ruin what friendship we had labored to create by making a gesture toward him that he may have never been interested in accepting and was uncomfortable even hearing.

I was floundering. Clumsy? Good Lord. I don't come on to men as a rule anyway - well...not obviously. And for heaven's sake - I've been with one man long enough for what few skills I did have in that area to have a pound of rust on them. So -I didn't think I was doing a very good job of it - I felt like an idiot and I really wasn't sure I should even be doing it anyway.

But lo and behold...I...as Mulder would say...hit one right out of the park. My first time up at bat too. And God was it ever a shock for me...and for Walter too.

A shock yes. I'll never forget the look on his face. His expression was one part wonder and one part utter terror. I have to imagine mine must have been the same. And of course by that point we knew we wanted each other. We had admitted it at last. I tend to believe it was a relief for both of us. No more lies...avoiding...denying...no more wondering.

So even though it was a shock - it was the best of shocks - a bolt of sexual electricity. The best kind of shock you can get when it comes right down to it. So, even though both of us were staring at each other like we'd been hit by lightning...we certainly absorbed the charge without any ill effects.

I'm not even going to go into the lovemaking. It was incredible. Walter may have had - may still have - doubts about his abilities with or his desires for a woman. If he does I only noticed it in the way he was hesitant to take the lead. His sweet fumbling and reticence to be too aggressive with me was touching. I'm not sure what I expected from him as a lover - harshness? No not really. I had a feeling he'd be a gentleman...but I didn't expect his shyness. Yes it was very sweet. It was also a hell of a turn on.

Yes, I'll admit it. I liked taking the lead. I mean the AD's a man mountain. It was a hell of a trip to scale him and get to the top. I took a wicked delight in showing him the ropes. I think it was part of the reason he enjoyed being with me so much that night. I know it was a big part of the reason I found him terribly sexy and romantic. 

So...I have to tell you...once was not enough. Now that I'd been to the peak so to speak, I wanted to climb those heights again. And actually - I still had issues with him. I hadn't even touched on my feelings concerning that night or the following day in Crossroads. My embarrassment, confusion. The hurt I felt when I thought he abandoned me somehow out of remorse or disgust when Mulder made his appearance. The idea that...well that I was quite possibly falling in love with him now as well and...Good Lord...the implications of a dozen different hopes, fears, desire...a list of emotions that I normally keep locked in the pages of this book. Locked in under the old law - the old tenant of "Silence is Golden".

But not any more. No. Friday night I laid it on the line. I let Walter see me, the real me. The real public - and yes, the real private Dana Katherine Scully. It wasn't a smooth revelation. It nearly ended things between us. But...Walter Skinner is not a stupid, uncaring, selfish man. He did listen. He heard and he acknowledged what I was trying to tell him. My heart. My soul. I give him a lot of credit for that and I love him for it too.

Yes, I love him. He says he loves me - and after Friday I can only believe it's so. I don't just mean his declaration of love - his kind understanding and our sharing of pleasure either. He showed his love and respect for me before we even got to my apartment. He put himself in grave professional jeopardy, maybe even physical danger - in the shower of the FBI gym. He did it, and he did it out of love for me before we even got into bed again. So, yes I love him - and I'm damn sure he loves me too.

But you're still asking how? How could he be in danger? Well...let me just ask you. Do you think AD Kersh is going to take what Walter said and did in the shower lying down? Will he just roll over and play dead? I think not. I should have discussed my fears about Kersh with Walter. I didn't. Somehow, I think he knows the danger. He knows it, and he's perhaps discounting it as just another part of the job. Part of his duty in protecting us as well. But God...obviously we still have some issues regarding communication here, don't we? I still held my counsel and he's closed mouth and dancing around the dangers again. I...I know we need to discuss Kersh. We will. Soon. 

Yes, we'll have to talk about Kersh. It's essential because I think we both know we're waiting for the sword to fall. I know it will. I can only hope it doesn't cut Walter to bits when it does. I know I'll be there to shield him if I can. I know Mulder will as well. It's obvious that Walter will do the same for us. Yes. I'll watch Walter's back. I'll watch because you see - the Scully's had another credo to go along with "Silence is Golden". We Scully's take care of our own. And Walter is mine now. Just as Mulder is mine. We all belong to each other. And no one will come between us on this Earth. No one.

Mark my words.

-THE END OF THIS JOURNAL ENTRY-

 

* * *

 

TITLE: Weighing In - Part 1 (Parts 1-8)  
(Part 1 of 32 parts)  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: SRA  
RATING: NC-17. M/SK. This story contains very explicit slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing - STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.  
SUMMARY: Skinner and Mulder discuss Walter's weekend with Scully - amongst other pressing issues, and Fourth of July plans make matters even more interesting. The action here takes place immediately after "Lifting Weights" and "Weights and Measures". This story is part of the "Baton Rouge" series. Obviously you may want to read the series to understand this narrative. The "Baton Rouge" series can be found at: http://homepages.go.com/~frogdoggie/3wstop.html or my mirror site at: http://members.tripod.com/frogdoggie/fic.html  
FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.  
TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Sixth Season before Two Fathers/One Son I think - in my timeline. So it would be safe to say any ep ever that appears before that two-parter would constitute a spoiler warning. It's also going to be obvious that I've changed the series timeline to fit into the Baton Rouge universe. I am trying to catch up with Season Six events now, however. We're rolling towards getting the X-Files back. Sort of. Oh - and still NO SR819 when that lamentable episode comes up! So, I've still kind of reinvented the mytharc for my AU as well. Sorry if all that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind.  
KEYWORDS: story slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17  
DISCLAIMER: Fox Mulder, Walter Skinner, Dana Scully and all other X-Files characters belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions and 20th Century FOX Broadcasting. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from their use.  
Once again - kudos to Susan - beta beyond compare - for tackling yet another epic. She has a rare talent for finding your mistakes, offering helpful suggestions without setting her own agenda, and in general just making an author feel, well - like an author. I consider her a very special person.   
***Author's note at the end.  
Written in August and September of 1999.

* * *

Weighing In

by frogdoggie

Wednesday, June 30, 1999. A Motel 6 near Dulles Airport.

"Walter?"

"Hmm?"

"The sushi was a good idea."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I haven't had any in a while. It was first class."

"Thanks. Izumis has great food. It was on the way."

"Walter?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm still sorry we have to meet this way. I mean I don't like it either it's..."

"Listen...don't worry about it. I...I can live with it. It's great being with you no matter where we get together. I just think we really need to be careful now...I'm sorry about that too."

"Well...I can't blame you for confronting Kersh, I guess. He's a titanic prick and I know he's dirty. He had some fucking nerve to threaten you both. Christ - I'd like to do more than just blast him with some cold water. But..."

"But you think it was a mistake? You think it's going to come back and bite us in the ass, don't you?"

"Walter..."

"Fuck. Scully said the same thing Sunday night. I didn't know what to say to her. She may be correct. You both may be right to think I've made a dangerous error here. But, I just did it - all right? I...I did it on impulse really. Crap. I'm not...well I'm not usually that rash, Mulder. It's...it's not like me to just..."

"Walter?"

"What?"

"You did it because he was threatening someone you love. There...there's no shame in that idea. God knows I've done enough rash shit in my life for reasons that were a lot more convoluted than trying to protect someone I care about very deeply. It's an honorable concept - looking after those you care for, you know. Very chivalrous."

"Mulder, I hate it when you make me into some kind of white knight. Especially when my possible misstep could cost us all so much."

"Look, Walter. We don't know what Kersh is going to do. We can't control something that hasn't happened yet, right?"

"True."

"All we can do is be on our guard and take precautions. I don't think you should be beating your chest over this any longer. Let's just...let's try to enjoy the evening and deal with this later, all right?"

"Yeah, you're right. But I think we should make some provisions in case..."

"Ok, we can arrange to talk about it further with Scully. We'll formulate another battle plan as soon as we can, agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Good, now scoot over here, big guy."

"You're a little sweaty. Want me to turn up the air, Mulder?"

"No, I'll be fine. Your head comfortable there?"

"Yeah. It's great. As long as I'm not crushing your tit."

"Walter, I have pecs, Scully has tits."

"Ok, nipple. You'll concede you both have those, right?"

"Oh yeah."

"Good."

 

"So, Walter..."

"Hmmm?"

"Scully's a hell of a woman isn't she?"

"Oh yeah. She's outstanding."

"Most definitely."

"An angel, Mulder."

"With a hell of a wallop, big guy. You've got bruises on your chest."

"Yeah...we...well we had a rough time coming to that meeting of the minds."

"I guess. You want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"O - K."

"Mulder, I really don't want to discuss it."

"OK. Fine. Then how about..."

"Then how about what?"

"Never mind."

"Come on, Mulder. You know I hate it when you do that."

"Well I'm not sure you'd want to discuss...Oh hell...I'm just wondering what..."

"Mulder, if you're going to ask me about what we did...forget it. That's private business between Scully and me."

"Well I can't lie and say I'm not curious."

"Yeah, well - you'll have to stay curious. Do you talk about what we do together to her?"

"No."

"Well then..."

"I did tell her you're a great fuck..."

"Damn it, Mulder..."

"Well, you are...what's to be embarrassed about? You're one hell of a fuck. So's Scully. I mean so what if..."

"Mulder, I don't like to talk about...about my intimate moments with my partners in those terms."

"Hey - who growls 'suck my cock' or 'fuck me up the ass'...at the drop of a..."

"Excuse me...excuse me a minute here, please. What I meant to say is I don't like to kiss and tell and certainly not in the language I might use in bed."

"I do declare! Rhett, you're really a closet prude..."

"Fuck you, asshole. My hometown librarian's a prude. My 80 year old Aunt Hester's a prude. I'm...ok...I'm conservative. I'll admit it. I don't feel comfortable discussing what I do with my lover of either gender to...to anyone...including you. I don't think it's respectful. Also, the language I use in bed is reserved for my bed partner. It's not for public consumption."

"Shit, Walter..."

"Don't laugh. If you laugh I'm going to get up and...hey!"

"What's the matter, Aunt Hester? Don't like having your ass goosed?"

"Do I look that outraged?"

"Walter...you always look outraged. It's one of your most charming expressions. One of the most endearing."

"You are so off the wall, Mulder."

"And that's what you love about me too, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is, Monster Boy. Come here."

"Mmmmm...now that's the kind of outrage I like."

"You up for some more of my endearing qualities."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well...what was that you said earlier about sucking cock and...what went along with that little bon mot, Boy Wonder?"

"Fuck me up the ass?"

"Thought you'd never ask...Dick."

"Christ. Walter. You're such a turn-on as Batman. If I could just persuade you sometime to...you know...put on those tights and..." 

"Not on your fucking life, buddy."

"Not even the cape?"

"No. Not even the utility belt."

"Oh man, you're crushing one of my fantasies, Walter."

"Yeah, well, life's tough, sweet cheeks. Now...come up with another fantasy... preferably one that doesn't have me dressing up in purple and black...and I might consider it."

"Really?"

"I'll probably be sorry I'm saying this but - sure -go for it, babe."

"Hmmm. Let's see...there's the Martha Stewart flogs the gardener fantasy..."

"Let me guess who I get to be in that one..."

"Now, now..."

"Come on, Mulder...give me one where I at least get to keep a semblance of my masculinity."

"Oh, Walter...there's never a danger of you not keeping that as long as you have this...and I can do this with it."

"Oh man...you can keep doing that...that's one of my fucking fantasies for sure."

"Simple joys..."

"More like keep it simple, stupid."

"All right. Point taken. How about the fantasy where I watch you beat this big cock of yours until I can hardly stand it, and then you fuck me up the ass nice and slow so I can watch you do me?"

"I love it when a plan comes together, Mulder."

"Yeah, me too, big man. So..."

"You wanna lean back against the headboard and admire the view?" 

"Sure."

"How do you want me?"

"Could you...get on your knees, kind of spread your legs..."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, sit back on your heels, yeah...like that. You comfortable?" 

"Oh yeah. Can you see ok?"

"Get real. You could be in Maryland and I could see that..."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I just want it to get you up my ass."

"All in good time. Seriously, you want me to use...three fingers or..."

"No, your whole hand. I...I really like it when you use your whole fist."

"Like this?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, baby. Oh yeah...this'll work."

"Yeah... God...what a fucking turn-on. You can really tease when you want to, Walter."

"You like that, huh? How 'bout this?"

"Oh...fuck yes....swirl that around the head again. Oh...yeah." 

"I used to enjoy show-and-tell in school, Mulder. You know that?" 

"I bet you did, Walter."

"You'd...you'd bet right."

"Man, Walter. You can really jerk that thing."

"I...I gotta back off here..."

"S'ok...go slow. I like the way you look when you're really taking your time to enjoy it."

"Mmm....yeah. Feels good, too."

"Massage your balls, Walter."

"Oh yeah...oh...yeah....this...this was one of your better ideas, Monster Boy."

"In the top 10 on my fantasy hit parade."

"You wanna touch yourself, babe?"

"No... not...not yet."

"You know when you lick your lips like that it goes right to my cock."

"I'm loving this, Walter. It's incredible. Christ, you're really...rising to the occasion."

"This feels good, baby. But...it's nothing like being up your nice, tight ass."

"Well...in my humble opinion, you look ready to ride."

"You got that right. Toss me the lube."

"Nice catch."

"Thanks."

"Did you put lube on the shopping list? We're almost out, here." 

"Yes, sir. I did, sir."

"Good...now...come on down here."

"Pillow?"

"Yeah, hand me one. I'll slide it under your ass. Raise your hips."

"Ok. This ok? Should I pull my knees back farther?"

"Yeah, and tilt...there you go."

"Walter?"

"Yeah?"

"This is the best, I mean that."

"For me too, lover. You ready...I'm gonna put one finger in here." 

"Ok."

"All right...good...there you go."

"S'good. Yeah...move it...oh yeah, that's great."

"I think I can add two here..."

"Yeah."

"Ok...how's...easy...how's this?"

"Fine...oh man...more than...ffine."

"Babe, relax. Oh yeah...push away like that...I know that feels great."

"Oh Christ..."

"Let me get some more lube."

"Can you give me some? I think...I'm a little dry."

"Sure. This enough?"

"Great. Vvvery good."

"Get it up for me, Mulder."

"I'm...about...about to manage that...quite nicely."

"Ok...this'll be two fingers again."

"I'm ready. Ohhhh. Man, I'm more than ready."

"Good. You're taking these real good."

"Uhhh. Yeah...more..."

"Three?"

"Yeah."

"Ok...three. Good?"

"Fuck...yeah. Uh...just...deeper...Oh that's good."

"I love it when you move your ass that way, baby. Love it when you pump your cock too. That's great."

"I'm gonna...get...get myself close and then....I...I wanna see you put it in an inch at a time."

"All right, lover. Let me get myself slicked up."

"Oh Jesus. Seeing you lube your dick's...."

"Top ten?"

"With a bullet, Walter."

"You just like a little audio along with your video."

"Audio?"

"Yeah you know...the wet, 'quishy' sound."

"Blow me."

"Next time. How're you doing?"

"Uh...No problem....if I slow down and admire the view again." 

"Yeah...stop...ease off. Your balls are tight."

"Yeah...I know...s'ok. S'ok."

"All right?"

"Yes."

"Ok, lift your legs up...there you go. Comfortable?"

"Oh yeah."

"All right. Take a breath...."

"Uh huh."

"Relax..."

"I am...I...uhhh...ow...."

"Mulder...easy...I'll wait."

"Yeah...just...just a sec."

"Ok? Go on?"

"Yeah."

"Relax, babe. You're just too worked up."

"Yeah, yeah....uhhhh..."

"That's better, lover...easy. Oh yeah, that's good."

"Ohhhh...."

"You still ok?"

"Yeah....it's...oh God, better. Yeah. Don't stop."

"Babe, there's no way I can."

"Good...Oh God...it's so gggood."

"You're doing it, taking it all."

"I...oh man...see it? Your big, slick cock just sliding right in?" 

"Yeah...I'm watchin'...every inch."

"Oh. Oh....please....all the way...oh God."

"Almost...oh yeah. Man, that's tight."

"Fuck, Walter. That was...was incredible."

"Sorry about the first bit."

"My fault. Christ, you just got me so hot."

"Ddditto."

"You, ok, big man?"

"Babe...I...I gotta...hold on...I...I'm...I'll come if..."

"S'ok. I...I like having you in me like this. It feels really full. Lie still."

"Yeah, this...you feel good."

"I love you, Walter."

"I...oh babe..."

"Can I...can I touch where you're in me?"

"Can you reach?"

"Just."

"Sure."

"Oh man...that...feels beautiful."

"You're beautiful, Fox. When we're together like this it...I..." 

"It...it's ok, Walter...I know."

"I love you, Fox."

"This is...Jesus...you're so good...oh..."

"I...oh, fuck...babe."

"Oh llllover....can...can you... slow...go slow."

"Hhhhave too or...ride's over."

"Oh oh...oh God...just...oh that's it."

"Babe... "

"Oh...OH!"

"Fuck!"

"Oh...good. Oh God."

"FUCK!"

"Walter! Oh...GGGGGGOD!

xXx

Thursday, July 1, 1999. 12:30 AM. The J. Edgar Hoover Building. 

Jeffrey Spender is back in the Hoover Building. I just saw him in the hallway. I thought....by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes. Pricking? More like just a prick. But, a big prick. A traitorous one.

Something's up at the Hoover as well. Kim told me Walter's been in meetings all morning. One was with Freeh himself. So, I have a bad feeling something unpleasant is coming down. My nerves are on edge. 

Something was up with Suspender as well. He looked smug but annoyed at the same time. I felt my hackles rise at the expression on his face. I confess I was walking past Walter's office. Ok, I was trying to get a look at him, all right? Sorry. I wish I could see him more often during the day that's all.

At any rate, I saw old Jeff go into Walter's office. Fine. Maybe I had some hope later of finding out just what was going down with little Jerkwad. We shall see.

I went back to the bullpen where Scully and I are still ensconced since we still don't have the X-Files and Walter is still no longer our boss.

Scully is sitting in her chair, at her desk, ear to the phone. She nods at me as I walk in. I sit down at my desk, facing hers and she sighs.

She speaks into the phone, nods, and nods again. Finally she rolls her eyes and scrawls something on the yellow legal pad in front of her. The pencil she holds presses hard against the yellow surface. As I watch, she finally holds the pad up for me to see what she's written.

<Calgon, take me away!> the writing on the pad declares in heavy, black underlined words.

I nearly burst out laughing. Instead, I surreptitiously, blow her a kiss behind my upraised hand. She smiles and drops the pad back onto her desk.

Both of us are nearly going insane over this type of forced grunt work. Manual idiot labor. Routine mind numbing bullshit. It's worse then when we were cataloging bullshit for God's sake. It's pretty sad considering we've only been at this detail for about 12 working days give or take a few hours. What will it be like months from now when Kersh still has us languishing at desks?

It's nearly July 4th and neither one of us has been able to summon up enough energy to even plan that surprise party we've been wanting to throw as a belated birthday gift for Walter. All of us have been working overtime anyway, including the big guy, again. No, Scully is going to spend the Fourth with her mom. Bill and his family will be in town. Charles may be able to make it as well. So, there will be another big cookout at the Scully family homestead. I'm not invited and I'm not unhappy about it. Oh sure, I'm considered the suitor now and not just Scully's job partner but...Margaret Scully's intelligent enough to know Bill and I get on like oil and water. It's worse now that he thinks I might be sniffing around his sister. So, Maggie's willing to cut me some slack on this family get-together. I'm invited to dinner at her house later with Scully and Charlie too, once Bill and his family have blown back to San Diego.

My Fourth is open. Teena has other plans this year and they don't include her son although to be fair we're not on bad terms really. She just needs to visit her sister this year. So, my 4th may be spent in Wally World if the AD and I play our cards right. I'm hoping. He's...arranging. So, we'll see.

But, I'm starting to feel like a caged animal. Scully is starting to revert to her "let's at least try to do a good job here Mulder" persona. Oh I know - she's had it too. She's trying not to give in to the ennui...the defeat. But it's just so damn hard. She's relapsing into the tried and true. The familiar 'by the book' Scully that I thought we'd left farther behind at this point. Evidently we haven't passed her by as yet. Nope. She's here in full force. I'm starting to scream inside.

I gamely try to read over the list of mundane 'Joe Publics' that I need to call. My vision blurs. Instead of picking up the receiver and punching in a phone number I sit there staring into space towards the direction of Walter's office.

I wish to hell I knew what was going on. Finally I buckle down and reach for the phone and my identical yellow legal pad.

Later...

At 1:45 I jump slightly. I'm feeling that familiar vibration coming from near my holster and next to my skin that tells me Walter wants to talk to me. I know it's him. It's not like anyone else has the coded phone number Frohike gave us.

I quickly scrawl a note on my pad and shove it towards Scully's side of the double desk arrangement. She pulls it close and reads my written words.

<Walter paged me. I'd better see what he wants.>

She raises an eyebrow and jots on the pad, pushing it back my way. 

<Something is up. I saw Spender. Walter has been in meetings all AM.>

I scrawl one word and send the pad back.

<Exactly.>

I look back up at her and furrow my brow. Her lips form a tight line as she writes another note and sends the pad across one more time.

<Go see him. I'll cover for you.>

I pull the pad all the way back to my side and write my final message. I pass the pad over and she reads it, nodding.

<Ok. Hold the fort down.>

When she looks up her face is composed and I give her my own grim little grin. Scully rips off the top sheet of the legal pad and jams it into the shredder under her desk. I get up, take my jacket and pull it on.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," I advise in a low voice.

"Later. Say hello."

I nod, turn and leave her to the telephone.

xXx 

 

* * *

 

xXx

I reach the park quickly because I'm almost jogging. The sun's bright, it's really a classic summer day but I hardly stop to notice. The park isn't too crowded since the main rush of lunch hour is over. I scan faces looking for Walter.

I spot him just about the same moment he spots me. He's over by the small fountain that sits near the center of the park. I approach him and he walks away from me. I keep him in sight, following at a discreet distance until he reaches a bronze sculpture display a little farther along. He takes a seat on a bench in the more secluded alcove that's at the base of the display and I reach his side. He's eating an apple as I sit down beside him.

"Lunch," he sighs, his mouth full of Gala.

"I noticed it's been a day," I reply, picking at some lint on my pants.

"You noticed correctly," he rumbles, taking a last bite of the apple and tossing the core into the nearby wire trash basket.

"I take it this isn't a meeting about our Fourth of July plans," I reply, watching his face in profile as he chews and swallows the last of his meal.

"No, it isn't, Mulder," he replies, looking over and capturing my eyes.

"What's up then?" I ask carefully. His face is unreadable. Not a good sign. The only time he does unreadable nowadays is when he has something very difficult to impart.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush. They're reopening the X-Files. They're giving them to Spender and Diana Fowley," he growls, looking away from me and off into the park.

My heart spasms in my chest and I stare at him, struggling to keep my mouth from dropping open down to my shoes. Somehow, deep in my guts, I sensed this might have been what was happening. I should have known. No wonder Spender looked one part constipated and one part insufferably pleased with himself. I blink at Walter, however, my brain stuck in vapor lock for a second.

"Diana...Diana Fowley's back?"

I hadn't seen her come in today. I'd heard she was making a return, her recovery from the gunshot wound finally complete. Hey, I was as happy as anyone to know she'd survived the shooting. But...the X-Files? I would have thought she'd have...contacted me? Christ. So much for old times sake. Yeah well...it's not like I was beating a path to her door either.

"Yes. She met with Freeh and then me early this morning. Same goes for Spender. She...she's down in the basement office with Spender right now...getting things underway," he replies, lowering his voice to a low hiss.

"Scully...Scully and I aren't reassigned to the X-Files?" I whisper dumbly, still in shock.

"No," he spits back, his jaw as tight as a bowstring.

"I...I assume you tried to...stop this," I ask carefully. At the twitch of agony on his face I amend my idiotic misstatement. "Crap...that was a stupid thing to say. Of...of course you tried to stop it. I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Not half as much as I am, Mulder. I...this is all my fucking fault. If I hadn't gone up against Oliver Kersh there might have been a chance...now..."

"Kersh had a hand in this then? You think this is...is his revenge for the shower incident?"

"Both hands. I'm not sure if it's all he has planned in the way of revenge. It's a pretty damn good start though. He knows...he knows I took a certain...interest in the X-Files, on a purely basic Bureau level. Some of this is wrapped up in bullshit Bureau politics for sure, unfortunately. You may not want to acknowledge this Mulder - but you and Scully were a premier partnership to have under my jurisdiction. I mean shit...I'm not going to lie to you. I liked the prestige. Because, along with having to deal with the outrageous nature of your cases and the cost overruns, the two of you had one of the highest solve rates at the Bureau. You can't beat that kind of PR...those kind of accolades. The two of you made me look good."

"As insulting at that sounds, I know it's true...if you didn't get the career boost, and Freeh's ear you wouldn't be in a position to help us at all," I reply, nodding.

I more than know what it takes to play office politics. I just opt out of it. But Walter has done everything he can to aid us -even things that are personally distasteful like entering into these kinds of head games. And it's not like he didn't champion the job we did too. Graham over in VCS told me once on the QT that he was in a meeting with Walter and Freeh where Walter made sure Freeh knew just what a - to quote Graham - 'class act' Scully and I were for the Bureau.

"Exactly. And Kersh sees your acquisition as a political coup. He's ecstatic to have gotten the two of you."

"Yeah, well he has a funny way of showing us we're his golden boy and girl."

"Nevertheless, he's sitting pretty because he's got you and I don't. He's perfectly content to whip into shape what he considers his now."

"He'll never own me, Walter. I..."

"Mulder...I know no one owns you...not...not even me. But, you have to face the facts now. You're under Kersh's jurisdiction and you're going to have to ride that out."

"What a sack of shit."

"Who knows...maybe he knows I'm involved with Scully and you. This is his way of getting back at all of us on that level as well," he replies quietly, looking around to see if anyone is within earshot. 

"But we haven't seen any evidence of that, Walter. Besides if it was just about his knowing you, and Scully and me too for that matter were in flagrante delicto here - he'd probably have the balls to go right to OPR and to hell with looking over his shoulder for you. I mean so what if he's cruising the Internet at night looking at boys..."

"Mulder...whatever. He was adamant about keeping you and Scully under his jurisdiction and that's the main thing. Since Spender's walking on thin ice anyway, and Fowley is just back from sick leave, they were deemed expendable enough to be assigned to the dead letter office so to speak. I tried to stop it but my protests fell on deaf ears."

"Yeah, but we know Bureau politics, any possible relationships here, or Spender and Fowley's status aren't the real reasons Kersh was stonewalling you," I hiss, my teeth going on edge.

No shit. Kersh is in league with Spender's butt smoking old man. So, Junior's going to get the dirty work whether he wants it or not, and deep six the X-Files anyway. He'll shut it down as quickly as possible. I don't know what role Diana has or thinks she's going to have, but she's making a mistake if she thinks she can stay untouched and still continue her research into the paranormal. They'll probably suborn her too, and then Spender will have my 'ex' working alongside him in ruining my life's work.

"I'm aware of that, Mulder. I know this isn't just all AD one-upmanship. It's a hell of a lot more than just a pissing contest between Kersh and me. I'm aware of his alliances - and yeah, he's aware of mine too. I've...you know I've been out of that loop for a while though, Mulder...you understand I'm not on his side of the fence anymore don't you?" he asks, a pained look on his face.

Oh Christ. He doesn't think I'm suspicious of his loyalties?

"God...Walter...I...I understand."

He nods, letting his breath out in relief and continues on.

"The X-Files are still under my jurisdiction. It's the only saving grace in this whole sorry state of affairs. At least I still have some control that way. I can ride herd on Spender and Fowley. I can try to make sure the division isn't destroyed and shut down. I can buy us some time until...until I can think of something else to do." 

"Or I can."

"Mulder...please...just...back off for a while. Let me...let me have some space to maneuver here. When things cool down I can see what I can come up with. We don't know yet what else Kersh has up his sleeve. After the holiday, you and I and Scully need to discuss the situation and still come up with a battle plan. There may still be a chance. But if you go off half-cocked and alienate..."

"Ok, I get the point. Fox Mulder makes nice..."

"Especially with Oliver Kersh, Mulder. Listen...this is serious. I'm not fucking around here, all right? Stay away from Spender and Fowley and don't ruffle Kersh's feathers. Do you understand?"

I sigh. He's right of course. He's talking as my boss at this juncture. I know how to compartmentalize our relationship - and I recognize that this is AD Skinner talking here. I should listen. If I make a wrong move here we're all history. Still I bridle at the idea of remaining out of the action. Well, I can stay away from Spender and Fowley. I can tap dance around Kersh. But...I have ways of doing what I want to do as well. I'm not just going to lie down and die here. AD Skinner speaks again and jerks me out of my reverie.

"Mulder, do you understand?"

"All right. Yeah. I understand. But...but I can't guarantee if something comes my way that..."

"Look, Mulder, if you screw up with Kersh, it's your own God damn funeral. I'll wash my hands of it because I don't know if I can stand in his way anymore," Walter replies, looking down at his hands in dismayed exasperation. "Can't you understand? This could mean the end of the X-Files. I...I'm not in a position anymore to do anything about it."

Walter is clearly miserable. He feels as though he's let Scully and me down in a profound way. Also, even though Walter has a love/hate relationship with the Bureau - it has been his life. Basically he sees federal law enforcement as a worthwhile career. He sees himself as helping to prevent anarchy. Fighting the good fight. So, the political crap although hated, is necessary to his job as well as his self image. All the aliens, Consortium collaborators and colonization plans notwithstanding, my lover is still deep down, a cop. Walter Skinner feels he needs to do a good job at protecting 'John and Jane Q. Publics' from the more 'mundane' criminal element as well.

Yeah, and he's got enough machismo inside him that this thing with Kersh is a blow to his manhood. On top of thinking he's hurting his two lovers, he's losing face and it's eating him alive.

"Walter, I absolve you. If I screw up with Kersh I'll take the consequences, all right? I'll be discreet..."

Walter sighs heavily. His expression says he knows me so well. This is what I love about him. He does know me and ultimately he won't stand in my way. There aren't many people who'll do that really - get out of my way even against their better judgment. Even, when in this case, they stand in my way to save me from myself. I'm in love with two of them and it's why I consider myself lucky in love - one of the few things I am lucky in now it appears.

"Mulder, I know I can't stop you. You're...you're a friggin' force of nature when it comes to the X-Files. But...you'd better be damn discreet. Just don't let me know about it...I mean that. If I don't know what you're doing they can't get it out of me."

I nod.

"All right. Agreed."

"Just...try to be careful all right," he adds. And just like that AD Skinner is gone and my man Walter has taken his place, concern for my safety heavy in his words.

I nod again and risk touching his thigh gently when a glance around tells me no one is looking at us.

"I'll let you know before...before I leave town or anything," I reply gently, removing my hand.

He nods, swallowing down his emotion, and then he looks at his watch.

"I'd better get back. You too. Kersh is going to call you and Scully into his office in about 45 minutes to break the happy news." 

"Oh. Ok," I reply. Suddenly I'm very tired. I run a hand through my hair as Walter rises from the bench in the alcove. He clears his throat.

"Uh...Listen. I did come up with a plan for the 4th. With everything that was going on, I didn't get to call you today to run it by you."

"So, you cleared your calendar?" I ask, getting up from the bench. We stand and face each other.

"Yeah. I can take tomorrow, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday actually. No one seemed to object," he shrugs with a small tight grin. "And God knows...I can use the break. Uh...I'm looking forward to...to doing this with you. I hope you got the same time off," he adds at once shy and eager all at the same time. The prospect of a weekend with me seems to lift his spirits. I smile a little.

I wish...sometimes I wish everything was different. That I could just take his face in my hands and kiss him now, right on the lips in full blown PDA and no one would give a shit. I wish...I wish a lot of things. If wishes were horses as the old saying goes.

"I'm...well I'm flattered, really" I smile sincerely. "I arranged for Friday through Tuesday too - just in case."

He chuckles a little, "Well now I'm flattered - you planned ahead for me."

I lean forward and whisper, "Oh yeah...and with an extra long weekend, I can show you just how much I really enjoyed last night." 

I watch as my words register with Walter's low self-esteem and kick it to the wayside. He smiles a little more broadly and I can almost see his chest puff up. He does pull himself up straighter. Oh yeah, big guy. He's got every right to strut his stuff a little. I almost blacked out from the sheer ecstasy he gave me last night. I meant every word of what I just said too. If I can even pay him back half the pleasure he showed me last night I'll be happy. If this guy has any doubts about how much of a man I think he is he shouldn't. It doesn't hurt me to bolster his ego a little once in a while either. 

"Yeah...well I aim to please," he rumbles as I step back.

"So, what did you have in mind for the Fourth?" I ask, brightening a little further.

Something passes across his face. It almost looks like someone fed him a lemon or stuck his cock and balls in ice water. Oh oh.

"Walter?" I prompt into his furrowing brow.

"Remember decorating the tree at Christmas up in Crossroads?"

"Yes," I reply, confused slightly as well as caught off guard. My own brow creases. "The ornaments were beautiful, especially that angel. I remember you saying your mother...oh...oh, no way, Walter. Not this weekend," I finish getting the point and not liking it one bit.

"Oh come on, Mulder. You said you'd be willing to meet my mother. She's invited us down to her beach house at Judge's Point...the summer house on Tipton's Creek off Chesapeake Bay."

"Us? Summer house?"

"Ok, me...but I told her I was going to bring you down so that..." 

"Walter, I don't think this is a good idea."

He glances around and then at his watch again.

"All right, look. We probably shouldn't talk about this here and besides there's no time. Are you going to be home tonight?"

"Yeah. Scully's leaving to go to her mom's tonight so I figured I'd try to catch up with you anyway."

"Ok. I'll call you on your cell around 8 or so."

"All right."

"Fine, 8 then," he replies, looking off towards the Hoover Building. "I'll head back first. Give me a few minutes, then follow me," he adds, moving into work mode again.

"I know the drill," I interrupt, grumbling. He turns and fixes me with a look that makes me feel like a royal asshole.

"I'm sorry, Mulder...it...I'm sorry," he whispers, and then he turns and walks briskly away.

xXx

"Mulder! God, I'm glad you're back. Kersh just called. He wants to see us in his office - now," Scully greets me as I return to my desk in the bullpen.

"45 minutes my ass," I mumble, glancing at my watch.

"What?" she asks, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Come on, I'll tell you on the way," I reply, turning to head out towards the elevators.

We walk quickly towards an empty open elevator and dash inside. When the doors shut, I grab Scully's arm, pull her close and kiss her passionately. She flinches in surprise for an instant but then melts into me, opening her mouth eagerly, taking her fill of the sensations as I do mine. We savor each other's tongues and taste for a few moments. When we break apart we're both breathless.

"What...what was that for...not that I'm complaining," she sputters, stepping back and rearranging her clothing.

I straighten my tie where she yanked it askew and smooth down my shirt front.

"For being you. For sticking with me...for...for everything," I whisper.

"Mulder?" she prompts, worried anticipation on her face.

"This isn't going to be easy. Kersh is going to tell us the X-Files are being re-opened. Scully...Walter told me...we...we're not getting them," I reply, rocking back against the wall of the elevator. My head thuds against the shiny metal surface. Right now I feel like bashing my skull against it until my head cracks open and my brains spill out on the floor.

"Oh...oh no," Scully murmurs, stepping close and taking my hand in hers.

"Who..."

"Spender and Diana Fowley," I reply anticipating her question. 

"Oh shit," she curses, squeezing my hand hard and then dropping it as the ding signals we've reached Kersh's floor.

"Yeah," I sigh as the elevator comes to a final halt.

"Get ready to assume the position," I tell Scully as the doors open. "And this is one reaming I'm really not going to enjoy," I add as we exit the elevator.

xXx

After the meeting with Kersh, Scully and I decide to call it an early day. He'd more or less dismissed us anyway saying he'd see us both after the holiday and to enjoy ourselves. Yeah, right. God, what an asshole.

As it turned out, I couldn't really avoid Spender and Fowley. I had to take a minute to go down to the basement and grab a few personal items I knew were still in and on my desk down there. I should have taken a page out of Scully's book and done that a long time ago.

I ran into both Diana and Spender. They were dutifully on the job. Dutifully mucking things up. It wasn't a pleasant experience. Diana sounded sincere about wanting to hold up the torch for the division. But who the hell knows whether that's true. I could barely look at her anyway so whatever game she's playing is a moot point for now. She's going to do what she has to do and I'm going to work around her.

Spender acted like he could care less. Looking in his eyes I knew what he's down there to do. Yes, dad's got a dutiful son there. Old Jeff is going to be a chip off the old block. Everyone is very dutiful. Yeah...well fuck them. I know what my duty is and it isn't to let them run us over.

I said what I had to say that afternoon and despite Walter's advice I was borderline insulting to them both. I could have said a lot more but I did manage to rein in the real vitriol I wanted to spit. It didn't seem to matter. My words were met with shrugs and a certain amount of apathy towards my opinion anyway. I left as quickly as I could.

Neither Scully or I dared to seek out Walter. He was in yet another damn meeting anyway.

So, Scully and I decide to walk to O'Leary's down the street from the Hoover and have a cup of coffee together before she headed to her mother's house. She already has her bags in the trunk of her car. I tell Scully at O'Leary's that I was going to talk to Walter this evening and she says to send him her love.

I tell her everything Walter had said and at that point she agrees that after the holiday we need to definitely plan strategy. Precautions have to be taken even if it means not seeing each other intimately for a while. I'd hate to do it, but it might be necessary to keep a low profile. I would, of course, be able to see Scully if we went on the road again. But Walter...well that was going to be a whole different matter. He wasn't supposed to be socializing with either of us. Scully and I might both end up having to do without the last spoke in our wheel for quite some time. I could tell the idea hurt her and I know it hurt me deeply. I don't think it was going to do Walter any good either.

It's two very disgruntled and depressed partners that say goodbye to each other in the Hoover parking garage. There's a bunch of records clerks, Holly amongst them, leaving at the same time we are, so we can't even kiss each other goodbye. I tell her to 'say hey' to her mom and watch as she drives away. I know I'm going to miss her despite the prospect of being with the other half this weekend.

I sigh, unlock my car door and start my trip home to wait for Walter's 8 PM phone call.

xXx

My cell phone rings at 8 PM sharp. I turn down the video I'm watching and flip the 'Send' button.

"I understand you have a roach problem?" Walter's voice asks without preamble.

"Not anymore. The exterminators left a note that they were here this morning," I reply.

It's our special signal that the 'Lone Gunmen Exterminator Company' visited my apartment today and eradicated any nasty 'bugs' that may have taken up residence in my humble abode. Now Walter and I can talk freely.

"What the hell are you watching?" Walter asks, chuckling despite his annoyance as two lusty young men on my TV screen cry out to the accompanying sound of slapping skin.

"Leather Jacket Love Story," I reply, turning the tape off. "Sorry."

Walter grunts.

"So, I see you got home on time," I add, diverting the conversation away from my viewing habits.

He sighs, "Yeah. I made it home around 6:30. How was the meeting with Kersh?" he asks, concern in his voice.

"I should have brought some lube," I reply, not even bothering to keep the bitterness out of my voice. But I instantly regret my words. Crap. It's not Walter's fault I think. What the fuck makes me say those kind of things? Because I'm an asshole I nod, silently castigating myself.

Walter is silent on the phone.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. I..."

"Forget it, Mulder. I can't blame you for being bitter. But...can you...Let's...let's just try to forget it for now," Walter replies, his voice gruff with emotion.

He sounds so tired. My man definitely needs a break here. Every brain cell in one half of my mind is screaming - resist, resist. Stay in town. Go up against Kersh. Fight and fight hard. The cells in the other half are saying, Mulder - fuck it. Throw up your hands. Run in circles, scream and shout and then get the hell out of town with at least one of the lights of your life. Grab that 'man o' mine's' ass before he gets away and cruise it on into the weekend.

Oh brother, I'm really more than ready for a vacation now myself. I hope we can put this all out of our minds. I know it's going to be difficult but I want to try to make this weekend special for Walter and me. It might be the last one we have for a while. I know he realizes that might be the case too.

"Yeah, screw it. Let's let it drop. This...this is the start of our holiday together. Now what was this about going to see your mother?" I ask, trying to sound at least a little enthusiastic about that prospect.

"My mother's gone down to the summer house at Judge's Point. When she invited me for the weekend I pretty much flat out told her a prerequisite for my accepting the invitation was that you'd be coming with me," he explains.

I can hear an undertone of resignation in Walter's reply. Despite being relieved that I'm dropping the X-Files issue, he's already set himself up for my rejecting his vacation plan idea. Yeah well...no wonder. Everything that bolsters his self-confidence lately has been torn down around his ears. Why should he think his lover is going to go along with a proposition he clearly objected to earlier this afternoon?

"So you made her an offer she couldn't refuse, Don Corleone?" I joke, trying to let levity smooth things over.

"I can be very persuasive," Walter replies, his deep, purring voice carrying more than one meaning over the airwaves.

Hmmm. Maybe this might not be such a bad idea after all, I think, as I listen to him breathe on the other end of the line. But...the prospect of going out to this house on an upper Chesapeake Bay creek inlet with Walter's mother having been goaded into accepting her new 'son-in-law' is really giving me gas.

"You sure she's not going to resent that, Walter? I mean...no offense, but if she thinks she's being pressured into meeting me..." 

"Mulder...she's trying, really. Believe me, if my mother doesn't want to be persuaded of anything she won't budge. Look...she agreed and she even suggested we should use the guest cottage so we'd have some privacy. If she'd been that disturbed by this scenario she would have suggested you sleep in one of the guest rooms and I take my old room in the main house," he replies.

"Guest cottage? What the hell is this, Rhett, Tara?"

"Mulder...you know my family has money..." Walter replies, embarrassment dripping from his words as his voice trails off.

I did know Walter comes from money, yes. I also know it embarrasses him to admit it because he'd rather not ride on his family's reputation or financial clout. He's always been more interested in being his own man and making a reputation based on Walter Skinner's personal abilities.

That said - other than the money thing - I don't know a lot about Walter's background. His family and family history is a part of Walter's life I know very little about really. It embarrasses me to admit it too. I mean, I knew he had a mother and sister still living in Pennsylvania. I think his sister and her husband have a couple of kids, at least one of which is a boy. I saw Walter buy a birthday card once that said 'To My Nephew' on it. I know his father is dead. I assume they were quite well off due to his father's business and other investments. But other than that I haven't paid attention to details regarding his family - like the fact they have a lavish summer home near the Bay. I've been too caught up in my relationship with Walter to let other parts of his personal life intrude on our world. It's beginning to dawn on me that my not knowing or paying attention to things outside our duet is a terribly selfish state of affairs. I make a mental note to try to find out more about his family during this trip.

Shit...I...sometimes I wonder just how he lives with me. I sigh. Well...that clinches it. I have to give in here. It's about time I made a real connection with the man I love. For God's sake - he even knows my mother likes gourmet coffee. Once he arranged for some to be sent to her on her birthday in my name because I was on the road and had to break a visit we'd actually planned to have with each other. The least I can do here is go visit his mother so he can at last be up front with her about his sexuality.

"I know that...I guess I missed the part about the summer house, that's all. Uh...look...I'll go with you to see your mother, Walter. I said I would so I'm not going to be an asshole and go back on my word. And I really want to spend some time with you, big guy. I...I'll give it my best shot, but please...don't expect things to go smoothly. You have to know these kind of...of family meetings don't turn out very well sometimes."

I know even though he wants me to acquiesce, he also appreciates the honesty. This time when he responds I can hear a lot more relief in his voice. I smile. I really do just want him to relax and I sincerely intend to be on my best behavior so meeting his mother goes as easy as possible.

"I'm realistic about it, babe," he answers. "I just...I just don't want to avoid the issue with her anymore. I want her to share this part of my life too so if we're all willing to meet halfway here maybe we can go all the way and things will work out."

"I'll try to be as optimistic as you are," I nod into the cell phone.

"That's all I ask, Mulder. I know you'll do the best you can." 

"All right, lover," I smile into the phone. "You want to head out there tomorrow?"

"Yeah, early if that works for you. I can drive and we can do the usual - leave your car in long-term parking at Dulles. My turn to pay this time. I'll pick you up at that courtesy van stop near the lot." 

"Sounds fine. What time?"

"Can you make it by 8 AM? That'll get us down to Judge's Point around noon."

"Sure. You want to stop for breakfast?"

"Drive-through I guess."

"Ah...you know me so well."

"Yeah. I figured you wouldn't pass up a 'McBreakfast'."

I chuckle and so does he. It sounds good to hear him laugh. I hope I hear a lot more of that over this weekend.

"Ok. I'll be there or be square," I reply.

"Great, and hey...bring your swimsuit."

"Can do."

We're both silent for a second.

"So...I'd better let you get back to your fuck flick," Walter finally says, breaking the silence. He gives a gruff chuckle at the other end of the line.

"Nah. I'm going to be a good boy and go to bed so I can get up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," I reply putting the accent on the 'tailed' part.

"Advisable," he rumbles into the phone.

"Oh and speaking of bright-eyed," I add, smiling. "Scully sends her love. She wants to get together after we get back."

"I take it you don't mean together as in together?" Walter asks. His voice holds a hint of something I'm not sure is reticence, but could be if I didn't think things were ok between him and Scully. I shrug it off. He's just at a low point. I'm sure the relationship with Scully is a done deal.

"Yes, not for nookie, Mr. Wayne. Batwoman wants to plan strategy. She's probably right," I sigh. "As much as I'd rather it be for a little group therapy."

"Well she is right. Yeah, let's definitely arrange that when we're all back in town," Walter replies gravely. "And if you talk to her, tell her...tell her I send my love too."

"I will. I'll talk to her tomorrow morning before I come to meet you."

"All right, babe. Listen, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Ok, big man. Sweet dreams. Later," I reply.

"Night," Walter replies and then a click signals that he's gone. 

xXx

Friday, July 2, 1999. 7:45 AM. A Dulles Airport courtesy van stop. 

"Come on, Mulder. You know Walter's been struggling with his mother over his sexuality. You want to help them to deal with the issue don't you?"

"Well of course but..."

"Then...don't worry, I'm sure it will work out. I know Walter's going to be a lot more comfortable after this visit and I bet you will too when it comes right down to it," Scully reassures me.

I sigh.

"Yeah you're probably right. Why should I be so nervous? I've faced mutants for crying out loud. How bad can a meeting with Esther Skinner really be?"

"See, there you go," Scully chuckles over the phone.

I'm standing, my duffel and garment bag at my feet, next to the sign that says 'Courtesy Van' right near the long-term parking lot at Dulles Airport. Walter's due any minute and I'm just winding up my backbone building cell phone conversation with Dana 'Win One for the Gipper' Scully. It's a fantastic summer day and her moral boost plus the great sunny weather is really working to improve my mood over the prospect of meeting 'The Dragon Lady of Judge's Point' a.k.a. Mrs. Esther Skinner.

"Yeah. I guess in the long-run I'd rather be sparring with Walter's mother than sitting down to grilled bratwurst with Bill. How is tall, tan and gruesome anyway? And how's Maggie?"

"Jesus, Mulder, you are such an asshole where my brother's concerned."

"I like Charlie..."

"You know what I mean."

"Well...tit for tat."

"Whatever. Mom's fine. I think both she and Bill are going to have an...interesting fourth actually."

I sense both mischief and a touch of dread in her sultry tone over the cellular.

"Oh?" I ask, raising my eyebrows even though she can't see them. 

"Yes. Mom's invited John Byers to the cookout on Sunday."

I whistle into the cell, "Whoa. So...is this the big day? Is Byers going to declare his intentions?"

I hear her sigh.

"Mom said he told her he loves her, yeah. So...I guess the cat's coming out of the bag along with the coleslaw coming out of the refrigerator."

I start to laugh.

"Oh lady. I am really glad I'm not going to be there now. Talk about your Fourth of July fireworks."

Scully's reply is caught between a groan and a trill of rich laughter.

"Yes. This is one of those situations where you say 'I have to laugh or I'll cry'. I'll cross my fingers it isn't a double display - I mean your end and this end."

"I hear you, red. And thanks, Scully."

"Oh you're welcome. Now have fun with the other half and we will all get together when you guys get back."

"Yes ma'am. They may have won this battle."

"But they haven't won the war."

"That's the spirit, Batwoman."

"All right, Boy Wonder. Drive carefully."

"You'll be back Tuesday and in work Wednesday, right?"

"Yes, sir, with bells on," she replies sarcastically.

"Hold the fort down, Agent Scully."

"Always, Agent Mulder."

"You're a goddess you know that, Scully?"

"Goddess? Which one, Mulder?" she asks her voice holding both a tone of warning and anticipation.

"Hera, of course," I reply, chuckling.

"Smart answer, lover," she replies, laughing throatily.

"Bitch."

"Takes one..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Takes one to know one."

"Exactly," Scully replies. I can sense her smiling.

I love hearing her voice. I wish...hell I wish she was going along on this trip too. I've always wanted to recapture those few heady days up in Crossroads when she and Walter and I were really together for the first time. I sigh. Well she's there and I'm here and koo-koo-kee choo - no one's the Walrus in this situation.

"Listen, I'd better go. Say 'hey' to your mom and the rest of the Scully clan. Tell Byers if he needs a shoulder to cry on later...I'm available."

"Will do. I love you, Mulder," she finishes softly and my heart clenches up in my chest.

"I was just about to say I love you, Scully. Take care. I'll see you when I get back on Wednesday."

"Wednesday," she replies and then she hangs up leaving me smiling. 

xXx 

 

* * *

 

xXx

A jet black Jeep Cherokee Sport with smoked glass windows pulls up next to the courtesy van sign. The driver toots the horn and the window rolls down.

"Well, well. Which rental agency did you abuse to get this one?" I ask admiring Walter's choice of rides.

"None. I picked it up last night after work. It's ours," he smiles at me through the rolled down window.

"No shit?" I reply, grinning like hell.

"I take it you like the surprise?" Walter replies, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell, yeah."

He grins, showing teeth.

"I didn't want to let on in case it didn't come in on time. I ordered it back in June. Come on, stow your luggage in the back and let's get breakfast."

"First rest stop I get to drive, right?" I flash him another smile.

"Sure," he nods, popping the rear gate. I pick up my duffel. He's got the seats folded down so I toss the bag into the rear compartment next to his suitcase.

"You wanna hang your garment bag across from mine?" he asks over his shoulder.

"Yeah," I reply, slamming the gate shut.

I walk around to the passenger side rear door. I open it and hang my garment bag up on the hook inside on that side. I shut the door and it makes a satisfying thunk. I move forward, open the passenger side door, climb in and shut it behind me. The AC is on in the Jeep, so as soon as I'm aboard, Walter rolls up his window. The shoulder strap and seat belt are easily in reach, so I fasten them as Walter puts on his turn signal and stares back into traffic.

"Tie?" he comments, looking me up and down for a moment. I feel my face grow warm as the look that accompanies that one word speaks volumes to my libido.

"Just wanted to look nice for Mom," I smirk.

He chuckles as he pulls the car away from the curb.

Honest to God...I decided to dress up a little to make a good impression. I'm wearing a new pair of Levis with a belt, as well as a white cotton long-sleeved shirt and subdued print tie. I even wore a pair of G. H. Bass & Co. oxfords. I would have worn the sports coat that's hanging in my garment bag, but it's too hot. As it is, I have my shirt sleeves rolled up.

"Yeah, me too, I guess," Walter replies, letting one side of his mouth twitch up in a self-deprecating grin.

"Well you succeeded," I nod, taking him in with frank admiration. 

Oh my yes. He does look good. He's wearing Dockers Khakis plus belt, and a soft gray T-shirt the sleeves of which accentuate his biceps quite admirably. I take a peek at his feet. Allen Edmonds shoes - the casual collection in brown suede. His lightweight brown sports jacket is hanging on the hook over the passenger door on the driver's side. Sports jacket in this heat? Then I notice - oh yeah - he's packing. His new Smith and Wesson is strapped to his hip.

I lean over and give him a quick peck on the cheek and then pull back to catch his reaction. His hand comes up to his cheek, a startled expression on his face for a moment. Then he shakes his head in bemusement and smiles really wide.

"Idiot," he rumbles as he turns back to concentrating on getting us out onto the highway and headed towards the McDonald's near the airport.

"You're packing your new Smith and Wesson too I see," I observe idly, looking out the window as he steers the car into traffic.

"Where's your piece?" he asks glancing down at my belt.

"In my duffel."

He nods with a look of understanding if not acceptance on his face. Walter almost always carries his piece. It's expected that a federal agent should be armed at all times. There seems to be some interpretation as to whether that means on his or her person or having your weapon easily accessible. In my case it means my gun is available when I'm off duty - sometimes on my person. With Walter it's almost always a part of his ensemble. We don't disagree on this issue as long as I have the gun around. It's one rule he was willing to bend even when he was my direct supervisor.

Walter accelerates and the Jeep speeds down the interstate. I sit back to relax and enjoy the start of our vacation together.

xXx

The drive-through line at McDonald's isn't too long but the Olds two cars ahead of us is taking forever. We use the time to debate what we're going to order.

"So what do you want?" Walter asks studying the various "hearty breakfast combinations" touted on signs as we approach the main menu and microphone set-up ahead.

"I'm thinking two sausage and egg McMuffins, hash browns, and a coffee...no wait...I'll have a cappuccino," I reply craning my neck to see the sticker saying 'New! Cappuccino' that looks about a year old.

"Christ, most of this stuff is inedible," Walter grouches, frowning at the sign. "Cappuccino? No thanks, I'll stick to coffee - black," he adds, pulling forward.

I chuckle.

"Ah come on...live dangerously. The English toffee cappuccino isn't half bad."

"It's probably all bad," he growls, stretching to read the menu as the next car pulls up directly next to it. "What the hell is a breakfast burrito?" he asks looking over at me.

"Just what it sounds like. It's kind of an omelet inside a burrito."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Ok. I guess that can't be too bad," he agrees.

"Adventure, Walter. Adventure. Try the cappuccino," I tease.

"Oh shit, all right. I'll try the cappuccino," he replies, his attempt to continue gruffly ending in a laugh.

I laugh as well as we pull up and take our place in front of the microphone.

Walter already has the window rolled down. A blast of static greets him as he gives the menu one last going over.

"BZZZZZZZZZZZelp ZZZZZZZooooo," a chirpy electronically distorted feminine voice greets our ears.

"What?" Walter shouts back, shaking his head.

"MAY-I-HELP-YOU? ZZZZZZZZZZZT" the voice repeats carefully with another blast of static following it.

"Yes. We'd like two sausage and egg McMuffins, three breakfast burritos, hash browns, and two cappuccinos - one English toffee and one Irish cream," Walter speaks clearly and distinctly into the microphone.

"Would that BBBBBBBZZZT two hash browns sir?" the voice blares again.

"Yes!" Walter shouts.

"Ok. I have TTTTTTTwZZZZZZZZttt McMuffins....three breakfast burritZZZZZZZOs, two hash browns, two cappuccinos - one English toffee and one ZZZZZZZZZZZT cream. Is that correct, sir?"

"How the hell could I tell?" Walter rumbles sotto voice. I start to shake with laughter.

"Sir? Will that BBBBBBBZZZZZZee all?"

"Yeah...fine," he shrugs and laughs into the microphone.

"That'll be ZZZZZZZZZZ 39, Please pull around to the first window."

"Damn. This should be some fucking grab bag," Walter adds as he lets up on the brake, gives her some gas, and we roll forward again. I'm in tears as we pull up to the first window where the little red stop sign that says 'Pay Here' is displayed.

Walter gets clarification on the tab and fishes in his pocket for some cash. I pull out my wallet and try to pony up my cut but he waves me off telling me I can pick it up next time. After paying, he pulls ahead. I finally start to get control of myself as we reach the food pick-up window. I stuff my wallet into my back pocket again and wait to help him juggle the meal.

The young woman opens the sliding glass door in the service window, smiles broadly, and starts to hand Walter first one, and then the second cappuccino, with a flourish. Walter hands me the first cup and then reaches for the second. I place the first in the cup holder built into the dash. He hands the second over and I sit that in the cup holder as well. A bag is passed over next and Walter hands it to me.

"Check it," he advises. I look inside and start to make a quick assessment that everything we ordered is indeed there. The girl in the window watches as I peer into the bag, and root around trying to count breakfast burritos.

"Got it all," I reply, finally spotting all the food.

"Thank you," Walter tells the teen with a curt nod of his head. 

"You're welcome, sir. Have a nice day," she answers automatically. I almost expect to hear a burst of static come out of her mouth and that starts me laughing again as Walter pulls away from the window. 

"Jesus, Mulder. Remind me not to do this again any time soon," Walter complains as we pull out of the McDonald's exit.

"Oh come on...how can you be so...so...un-American?" I chuckle, getting one of the sausage and egg McMuffins and a breakfast burrito out of the bag.

"I'll tell you for sure after I try this Irish cream cappuccino," he replies, giving me a little bit of a sly smile.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," I comment as I place the breakfast burrito on the dashboard within easy reach of his hand.

xXx

"So, Walter...anything you'd like to tell me about your mother?" I ask, picking up the last of the breakfast burrito wrappers.

I dump the paper into the McDonald's bag with the rest of the refuse from our meal. Walter takes a sip of his cappuccino. He ended up liking the cappuccino in point of fact. I'll file that away the next time he gripes about agreeing to one of my fast-food suggestions again. He takes a big sip, swallows, and places the half empty cup back in the cup holder.

"Like?" he replies obliquely.

"Well...like...does she have something against tall men with dark hair and soulful eyes?" I reply, squinting a little at him.

He sighs.

"She married my father. He was tall and had dark hair at one point," he replies, keeping his eyes on the road. "She always said he had eyes like..."

"You know what I mean, Walter. What am I in for here, ok? Just how much is she fighting the idea that I'm involved with her son?" I interrupt.

"It was a shock, Mulder. What else can I say? I hit her with it just before Christmas and she...well she took it on the chin, all right," he replies tersely.

 

"It sounded like she went down for the count at the time."

"She wasn't ecstatic about it, no. But, we've had some talks since then. I think she's making the effort to understand. She didn't object to my bringing you down. She did say that she'd like to meet you."

I can tell I'm stretching his patience. He's being tolerant of me and I get the feeling he's done the best he can to pave the way for this weekend. Whether things work out is really going to be up to us taking things as they come, and a healthy dose of blind luck I think. In short - just like anything else in life. I nod at him.

"Well...ok. I just...I guess I want to put my best foot forward and I'm nervous. Just ignore me. I'm sure things will work out."

"I understand what you're saying, Mulder. I have confidence you'll handle it fine. If it's any consolation...I'm almost pissing my pants, all right?"

"Thanks...but...I'm not sure that's any consolation at all," I chuckle.

"Well how about my admitting to it?" he chuckles back.

"Ok. I'll take consolation in misery loves company then," I reply, smirking a little.

He gives a gruff bark of laughter.

"Let's just see how it goes. Ok, babe?" he finally replies after a moment.

"Got it. All right. I'll be going with the flow," I reply, nodding.

"Sage advice as I recall," Walter grins a little reminding me of how many times I've said the same thing to him.

We drive along quietly for a few minutes. I figure while we're on the subject I'll ask him some more questions about his family. I'm still very embarrassed about not knowing more about them all. This might be a great time to find out.

"You know, Walter, it occurs to me I don't know a lot about your family. I...I should apologize for not showing more interest. I...shit, yeah, I should really say I'm sorry because...uh...after all you know just about everything there is to know about mine," I begin in way of opening and apologizing. "Well at least the more gory details," I add quietly, looking out the window.

No shit. He's read my file and had intimate knowledge of my family's skeletons even before we were involved with each other. God. 

Walter shrugs.

"I had to know about your family, Mulder. Purely on a professional level I mean. It was part of my job to know your file. I...I had more than a professional interest at the time of course...not that I would or could admit it. But...I don't begrudge you not asking about my family. Not everyone is interested in getting to know those kind of details. I just figured you were respecting my privacy in some things and let it go at that."

"Oh," I reply, looking back over at him, my eyebrow raised. "I was a little worried you might have interpreted it as my not caring about you or something."

He glances over at me and smiles gently.

"Mulder...believe me...I know you care about me."

And does anyone question why I do care for him? One look in his eyes right now and there would be no wonder at all. He turns back to the road and I shift in the seat, feeling just a little...pleasantly...tense.

"Well...do you mind talking about them? I...I really would like to know."

"No...I don't mind at all, shoot," he nods at me.

"Uh...ok. Your mom still lives in Ambler then?"

"Right. Near Temple University. Actually she and my sister Sylvia both live in Ambler. Sylvia's husband Roger is a fireman there."

"They have the two kids right?"

"Right. Boys. Roger Jr. and Ben."

"Ah," I reply, picking at some lint on my pants. It's nice to hear him talking easily about the personal details with me. It's particularly nice to hear the warmth in his voice when he mentions all the names, even his mother's.

"How old are your nephews?" I ask, curious.

His brow furrows for a second and then he shakes his head in self-deprecation.

"I forgot for a second there," he frowns. I make no comment and he continues. "Ben's 9. Roger's 11...God...almost 12. It...it doesn't seem like my kid sister's old enough to have two that old. Christ...time flies," he adds.

"No kidding," I nod, looking out the window again. "How old's Sylvia?"

"Thirty-seven. She's my little sister - but I have to admit - she was always my buddy. Yeah, Syl was always tops even when she was being a pain in the ass," he answers, warmth in his voice again.

I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Thirty-seven? Sam would be close to...Sam is thirty-four...I cut the thought off instantly. I...no...I won't go there. Not now. Not this weekend.

"Um...I look forward to meeting your sister someday," I throw in quickly to cover the real tenor of my thoughts.

"Sylvia's great. I think you'd like her," he nods, keeping his eyes on traffic.

"I'd like to hear some of her stories about big brother Walter," I tease him to further break my mood.

"Fat chance, Boy Wonder."

"Ah...well...maybe I can persuade your mother to show me some snaps of little Walter on the bearskin rug - or in the tub..."

"Mulder...I'm armed."

I laugh and then so does he.

"Ok. I promise...no potential blackmail stories or photos. Still...I bet Scully'd like to hear about those cute Kodak moments." 

His ear tips turn a little red.

"She's got more class," he growls.

I chuckle.

"So, did your mom and dad take more pictures of you than Sylvia? That's usually the way that works," I ask. I cringe again. Wow...maybe I'd just better get out of this line of questioning. Every one I ask ends up being a mental landmine for me.

"No. Actually...my folks weren't big on snapping pics at all," he replies, clearing his throat.

"No home movies or..."

"No home movies," he interrupts, setting his jaw.

All righty. What's up behind this reticence? What happened to 'sure I don't mind talking about my family'? Walter doesn't want to go here I take it. I almost back down and ignore the line of inquiry. But...that's not my usual bent. Once I get a whiff of something that needs to be uncovered...I'm like a hound on the scent. For better or worse...truth will out.

"Neither one of them was interested in photography I take it?" I press ahead gently.

He shifts and nods as if coming to a silent decision.

"Look Mulder...uh...Sylvia and I were raised by nannies early on. Even after the nannies were discontinued, my parents...well...both of them were heavily involved in the family business. They weren't around a lot of the time."

"Oh. Family business?"

"Trucking for starters. My family runs Skinner Transport."

"Really?" I ask, following it up with a whistle.

"Yeah, that's us. My family started out with trucking and then branched out. So...that's the basis of the family fortune, Mulder. Mom still runs the company with the help of her brother and Dad's younger partner. Sylvia and I...we're on the board also," he replies quietly. Like I said - I can tell this makes him uncomfortable. I decide to switch gears.

"Yeah, well that's not uncommon. It's not like my folks spent a lot of time taking...I mean...after....well you know..." I fade off. Oh shit...yeah that's a good direction. Right.

He glances at me.

"Yeah. I know," he nods sympathetically.

I'm silent for a few seconds while my mind spins to find a way out of this depressing turn in the conversation. I seize on a new tact and run for my life with it.

"So, this summer place is right on the bay? Sounds fantastic." 

Walter relaxes at my words. He was wrapped up tight too and I'm not sure if it was because he knew I was thinking about Samantha. There's more behind his family story then he was letting on. I make a note to talk to him about it later if he feels the need. I really do want to be part of his life now - in every way. So, if I can help him by lending an ear, I will.

"Actually, it's on Tipton's Creek, which is really more like a tributary off the Chesapeake Bay. Judge's Point is very scenic...and the property is private. We've been going there for years and the house holds some good memories."

"Well...I did bring my trunks," I smile over at him. Yeah...I bought a new pair last night as a matter-of-fact. I purchased them in an emergency trip to a Wal-Mart after his phone call. A nice, baggy pair. I wasn't about to show up in front of Esther Skinner in my skin tight 'strut my stuff' red Speedo. No way.

"Good deal. We can swim right off the dock. There's a little beach too," he replies agreeably.

"Ah. Sounds like just what we need," I breathe out, resting my head against the seat back.

"You've got that right," Walter whispers.

I shut my eyes and relax. I'm beginning to think this might not be such a bad trip after all.

xXx

The next thing I hear is Walter chuckling again. I feel a tap on my knee.

"Wake up, Mulder. We're hitting this rest stop ahead."

"Wha...why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I ask, blinking.

"Because you looked like you needed the nap," he replies, still chuckling as I wipe sleep stickiness out of my eyes.

"You just like to watch me, you pervert," I reply, grinning in return.

"Keep that up and I won't remember you said you wanted to drive," he replies, teasing.

"I stand corrected," I nod. "And I guess I did need the sleep," I add, smiling and straightening up."

"I need to stretch my legs," Walter adds, flipping the turn signal on. We coast on into the exit lane for the rest area as I run my hand through my hair.

"Yeah, me too," I reply, seconding the notion. Stretch? Uh huh. My cappuccino full bladder is about to burst too, big guy.

The rest stop is your standard type break area. It consists of a large structure with conveniences the road weary traveler may need. A Hardees in case you want fast-food. A Baskin Robbins in case you want pure sugar fast-food. Gift shops in case you want any number of sundries including the latest issue of Playboy...and restrooms in case you have to do what we have to do - piss a bucket.

Walter parks the Jeep in a spot that's relatively close to the door. As I watch him put the vehicle in park I marvel on his picking the automatic transmission option on it. He knows I can't drive stick so I know he really did buy this car for our use and not just his. His '61 Chevy's a stick. I've never driven it. So, buying the Jeep was a nice gesture. I really do appreciate it.

He cuts the engine and the SUV goes silent. I watch as Walter rubs his thighs a little and then reaches behind his back to pull at his sports jacket.

"So, where are we?" I ask, reaching to open the passenger side door.

Walter opens the driver side door and steps out. He slips his jacket on. I open my door, climb out, shut it and turn to look at him over the top of the Jeep. He's scanning the crowd. Even on vacation this guy looks like he's on the job. I shrug. Hard to take the Bureau out of the boy. I find myself doing the same thing sometimes. It's just force of habit and it's a habit that's hard to break.

"We're about halfway to Judge's Point," he answers at last, turning to look at me. He smiles.

"You trust me to guide us in, Captain?" I ask giving him my best Mr. Chekov imitation.

"You can read a map, right?"

"Yes. Scully taught me well."

He rumbles a laugh.

"Then I'll let you drive the rest of the way."

"Oh goody, Dad. Does that mean I get the keys to the car?"

"Catch," he replies, tossing the Jeep's keys in my direction.

It's lucky I can think fast. I scoop the keys out of the air, juggling them a little in the process.

"Lock it up," he throws back over his shoulder as he starts to walk off towards the building.

The key has one of those little alarm remote mechanisms on it. 

"Phasers on stun," I mumble as I aim it at the Jeep and depress the tab.

A beep tells me the Enterprise is secure. I pocket the keys and saunter on after Walter towards my mission in the men's room.

The big guy reaches the men's room first so I let him proceed me inside. It's men's room etiquette. You may be there with a buddy, but you don't go in together. You don't talk to each other or anyone else once you're inside either. You don't even make eye contact with your friend and you certainly don't make intentional eye contact with anyone else using the facilities. It's a rule and baby, you'd better not break it - especially at a rest stop.

So, Walter makes his way in first, follows perfect etiquette and takes the urinal near the end of the line-up against the wall. There's a couple of other guys evenly spaced along the urinal line down from him, so I have to use one closer to the door. I walk up to a urinal that's politically correct to use. I move in close to the porcelain, unzip, pull out my dick and...wait.

Ok...I have a confession to make here. Sometimes I have a bashful bladder. In a public restroom like this every once in a while I can't go to save my soul. Even when I have a bladder that's screaming for release. I can tell this is going to be one of those times. I sigh and hold on to an organ that is connected to another one that just does not want to cooperate.

Walter on the other hand has no trouble. After a short time, I hear a urinal flush and manage to glance surreptitiously to my left. I see him making the last rearrangement in his Dockers. He leaves the urinal and heads to the sinks. I just catch his eyes. He raises an eyebrow. I shrug and go back to staring straight ahead as the guy two urinals down finishes up and flushes as well.

Walter turns on the water at one of the sinks, washes up quickly, and leaves after drying his hands. He doesn't turn off the water. Oh man...he is so perceptive. My bladder finally takes the subliminal suggestion from that running tap and gives up the output. My piss stream hits porcelain at last, and I sigh with relief.

When I exit the men's room, Walter isn't hanging around. I was going to see if he wanted a soda or coffee. Since he's not there to ask, I decide he probably went back to the car and head that way. 

Sure enough, I can spot him standing next to the Jeep talking with two guys. One of the guys is holding a little dog on a leash. I walk over and catch a snatch of their conversation.

"Yes, Reedsville," the graying African American man says, smiling at Walter. "Before and After Design. We handle just about any re-design job."

"We've even done docks," the other man, a tall, thin blonde guy with a handlebar mustache adds. He's holding the dog. It's a Boston Terrier.

As I reach them, Walter notices. I come over and stand by his side. He touches my arm very briefly, and makes a somewhat awkward introduction.

"Uh...Fox...this is Jack and Keith," he gestures to first the African American man and then the blonde. "They own a contracting and design firm in Reedsville. Remodeling and such."

"Ah," I smile, reaching to shake hands. "Pleased to meet you," I nod to each in turn.

I look at them both and realize I'm seeing 'members of the same church' here. I mean the neck chain with the rainbow rings on Keith is a dead giveaway that he and Jack are gay. Walter's touching my arm and his hesitancy over how to introduce me tells me they tweaked to the idea he was gay somehow before I got here. Walter's ok with it, the touch let me know that much. But he's still a little uncomfortable about being outted in public. It's not making me jump for joy but I'll go with the flow here and follow his lead. I know he's had that feeling he'd like to make more forays into the gay community. Maybe that's what's running through his mind now.

"My pleasure, Fox," Jack replies.

"Nice to meet you," Keith adds, pulling on the leash he holds as the little black and white dog tries to jump up on me. I reach down and pat the Boston Terrier on the head. Keith gets him to sit by his leg and I straighten back up and move next to Walter.

"Oh, and this is Squirt," Walter indicates the dog, a wry smile on his lips.

"Who, unfortunately, lived up to his name," Keith interjects. "We stopped to apologize because the little knothead watered your tire. Walter was just telling us you two were going to be in the area at his vacation home."

I laugh and reply, "Well...the Jeep hasn't been properly christened yet. So, we'll consider it done I guess."

Jack and Keith both laugh in relief over the tire. Walter chuckles at my remark as well.

"And yes. We're going to spend the holiday on Chesapeake Bay," I add, smiling at Walter a little.

"The weather has been great here for days. The long range forecast says it's going to stay sunny. You two should have a great time," Jack replies, grinning.

"Yeah, we're looking forward to the time off," Walter confirms. 

"Walter, let me give you guys our card," Jack replies, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. "We do a lot of work for the gay community in the area. I mean, that's what we're here for - to give reliable service to the family so to speak. So, if you two ever need any remodeling done, feel free to give us a call."

Walter nods briskly and gives a sincere smile back.

"Thanks, Jack. I appreciate it," he replies, taking the card that Jack proffers to him.

Jack puts his wallet back in his pocket and Walter flips his sport coat back to reach for his own wallet. When he does, he clearly displays his gun. Both Jack and Keith see it and raise their eyebrows. Keith sucks in his breath. They glance at each other. Walter notices. He carefully takes out his wallet and opens it. As he's slipping the card inside, he makes a quiet explanation.

"It's legal," he advises. "I'm in...uh...law enforcement," Walter replies.

Both men look at him and then at each other again. There's an awkward moment of silence. I can tell by the way they're looking at Walter that they're not sure about him. They're wary. There's oftentimes bad feeling between gays and police officers. It stems from the idea that the police can be intolerant of gays and treat them with disrespect and unfairness, even violence. Those attitudes are changing but the hurt produced by them can run deep. So, even though Walter has obviously let these two men know he and I are together, the idea of a gay police officer is still no comfort. In fact it may be doubly disturbing if they have the attitude that he's a traitor to the 'cause' for siding with a biased and oppressive authority.

Finally as I'm about to interject, Jack speaks up.

"Uh...no need to explain," he replies, clearing his throat. "If you're a cop, I understand. We...well things can be difficult for gays in that line of work. No need to tell us anything else about it."

"Yeah, no problem...really," Keith replies, smiling a little and shifting his feet.

Walter nods.

"All right, thanks. And...thanks again for the card. I will keep you in mind," he reassures them, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.

"Ok, great. Nice to meet you, Walter. You too, Fox," Jack replies, touching Keith on the arm. "We'd better take Squirt to the dog walk area and see if he needs to christen anything else," he adds, chuckling.

"Later guys. Have a safe trip," Keith adds as he gives the leash a little tug to signal Squirt that he should follow along.

"Nice meeting you," I reply as they walk away.

Walter watches them go, frowning.

"Walter?" I ask quietly.

He looks at me, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Did saying we were gay..."

"Bother me?"

"Yeah."

"No," he replies, shrugging and still frowning. "Did it bother you?" he asks, turning to pin my eyes.

"No," I answer truthfully. I could care less about labels. I have no shame when someone perceives we're together. Walter is still frowning even after he studies my face and nods, signifying he knows I'm being honest. I try another direction of inquiry.

"It's a common reaction to the gun - even if you weren't gay." 

He sighs.

"Yeah, I know. But...you saw what they were thinking. It was plain on their faces. Gay cop does not equal friend in all cases. It just disturbs me that two guys would assume...well you know. Assume that I would be intolerant of my own community. It was a little disturbing." 

I shrug.

"There hasn't been a great track record over the years between the gay community and law enforcement. Maybe finding out that you weren't going to jump down their throats will help their attitude."

He nods, lost in thought.

"Look, you want a soda or coffee for the rest of the trip?" I ask trying to get him out of the doldrums.

He snaps back into focus and pats me on the back. His brow clears a little and he ventures a small grin at me.

"No. I think I'm good to go the rest of the way. How about you?" 

I smile and reply, "Well after my bout with bashful bladder in there I think I'd better refrain. I'm not really thirsty anyway. And by the way - thanks for the 'subliminal seduction'. The running water really helped."

"Yeah. My mother used to swear by that technique. Glad it worked," he replies, still a little distracted.

I put my hand on his shoulder for a moment.

"Hey...are you all right with it?" I ask him gently indicating where Jack and Keith are walking the dog over in the pet area.

He pulls himself up straighter.

"Yeah, sure. I'm fine. Let's hit the road."

I nod, letting the subject drop along with my hand from his shoulder. I don't think he's completely fine but now's not the time to talk about it. I'll let him discuss the issue in his own time. We have more productive discussions if he brings up what's bothering him when he's ready to do it.

"Ok. Let's take her out," I nod, pulling the car keys out of my pocket.

"Warp factor one, Mr. Sulu," he replies, smirking a bit himself. 

xXx 

 

* * *

 

xXx

Before we left the rest stop Walter showed me the exact directions to the house on Judge's Point. I folded the map up and placed it between the front seats for easy access. Walter removed his jacket again and got comfortable in the passenger seat. We bantered a bit more about Jack and Keith and the fact that he really was thinking about having some work done on the summer house. He'd discuss it with his mother when we got there. Eventually, Walter's eyes grew heavy and the rhythm of the tires on the road lulled him into sleep.

Now I glance over at Walter as he's gently snoring. I smile. Obviously, yours truly wasn't the only one who needed some sleep. Walter looks serene, lying with the seat back. He's as peaceful as I've seen him in weeks right now. If this is how I looked no wonder he didn't want to wake me up before.

Both of us are really physically as well as emotionally exhausted. I hope we're not riding into a situation that's going to make us more so. An errant thought of Scully streaks through my mind suddenly. I hope she's having a relaxing time of it as well. But with 'Byers' Big Surprise' looming it may be a vain hope. Well if nothing else, Scully and I can compare disaster notes when we get back. Crap, I sincerely hope that's not going to be the case.

I pick the map up from between us and hold it in front of the steering wheel. The sign we just passed said Reedsville. Judge's Point is supposed to be about 10 miles beyond. I confirm the directions, drop the map and drive on, letting my lover slumber next to me.

Walter wakes up on his own just as I'm starting to think I've missed the road to turn into Judge's Point. I'm biting my lower lip and going for the map again when his hand touches mine.

"You're ok. Haven't passed the turn-off yet," he murmurs, pulling himself upright. He reaches down and pulls a lever at the base of the passenger seat. The seat springs back and he's sitting straight again.

"Oh good. I thought I'd gotten us lost," I nod, leaving the map in its place.

"No," he rumbles, waking up fully and looking out the window. "It's about two more miles."

"And then on the right?"

"Exactly," he nods. "Thanks for letting me sleep too," he adds, smiling at me.

"No problem," I reply, concentrating on the road.

We're driving into an area with some forested spots that must border Tipton's Creek. Pines and numerous deciduous trees line the road. Some of the soil looks to be more sandy, however. We're near the Maryland Coast, out away from Reedsville which really does appear to be the closest large town. I roll down the window. I can smell water - both ocean and what must be the creek lie beyond the trees. It's a heavier freshwater smell though. The bay is partly fresh water after all.

Just as the odometer is about to click over 2 miles, Walter nods towards the right.

"There. That access road," he murmurs.

I see the road and signal for the turn. We start to drive down a long, private lane. It's nicely shaded by trees, cool under them where they crowd in. Walter straightens up further in his seat, one hand on the dashboard, watching our progress intently. His face appears composed but I can see the mixture of nervousness and pleased excitement in his eyes. He's one part glad about reaching our destination, and one part petrified at the prospect of arriving. Yeah...well, I've got butterflies too and they're doing a fandango in my stomach. I steel myself for the inevitable and send the Jeep on through the trees with a little more gas.

All at once, the trees end and we pull out into a large clearer area. The road tapers down into a more narrow driveway that leads up to the garage attached to the sprawling house. There's a smaller cottage nearby which has a smaller drive leading up to it. The house and cottage sit on the last available land at the end of this road - the peninsula that juts out into Tipton's Creek and points right towards Chesapeake Bay. Both are perched on land's end it seems and the view is phenomenal.

The house is a practical but still elegant one story design. Constructed of natural stained wood and some stone in the form of the foundation and two large chimneys, the structure has very clean lines. It's surrounded by a well tended lawn and gardens. There are wildflowers as well as annuals and perennials that look like they're taken care of with love too. All in all it's a breathtaking vista and I'm rendered temporarily speechless.

"Judge's Point," Walter announces in a soft voice.

"I'll say," I breathe out quietly. Walter looks at me with a bemused twitch of his lips. I smile. "You were right, it's a fantastic view."

He smiles back and returns his attention to the scene before us. 

"Can I just pull up to the garage?"

"Sure, that's fine," he replies.

I drive the Jeep forward and pull in front of the three car garage. As I'm breaking and putting the car in park, Walter's looking out the passenger side window.

"What the hell?" he exclaims suddenly. The engine is still running as he wrenches the car door open and bolts outside.

"Walter?" I ask, startled. I cut the engine. The keys get stuffed in my pocket and I throw open the driver's side door. The slam disturbs some blue jays in the lawn and they fly away in a beating of wings.

Walter is striding purposely towards the front door. A statuesque, dark-haired woman with outstretched arms is running to meet him.

"Walt! Walt!" she yells, excitement obvious in her voice.

"Syl!" Walter calls back. "What the hell are you doing here?" he laughs, clearly not expecting to see his sister but certainly happy to do so. They meet in a terrific hug and Walter practically picks her up off her feet he embraces her so hard.

I stand back by the side of the Jeep and watch them hugging each other tightly. Slyvia's head is practically buried in Walter's neck. God. You know...I can't remember the last time Walter said he actually saw his sister. From this display I have to think it must have been a while.

They're talking and I'm just far enough out of earshot to not hear what they're saying. Walter turns very quickly though and motions for me to come over. I straighten up and walk forward, my step firm despite the fact I'm quaking in my shoes.

"Syl...this is Fox Mulder," Walter introduces me when I reach their side. "Mulder...this is Sylvia O'Hara, my sister."

Walter's sister is tall - at least 5 foot 11. Her long brown hair is tied back in a ponytail. She doesn't look 37 years old. She looks years younger. Her eyes are a lively, lovely deep brown, very much like her brother's eyes. She resembles him enough around the eyes to know they're brother and sister. Otherwise I bet she looks like one of their parents and Walter resembles the other. I've never seen a picture of Walter's father. It will be interesting to meet his mother and see some photos of his father in order to confirm my theory.

"It's a great pleasure, Fox," she replies with a smile. She extends her hand towards me and I take it. Her smile is warm and her eyes dance. Her grip isn't tentative at all. She grabs hold and shakes my hand with authority. I smile and shake back. "Welcome to Judge's Point."

"Thanks, Sylvia. It's a pleasure for me too. It's great to meet you," I reply. "Oh...and you can call me Mulder. All my friends do," I add, nodding and smiling.

I glance at Walter, the obvious questions on my face. I mean...did he tell her or did he not tell her? Is she greeting me so pleasantly because she hasn't a clue I'm boffing her brother? Walter raises an eyebrow. Sylvia takes us both in and releasing my hand, laughs a little.

"Yes, Walter told me if that's what you're wondering, Mulder. I know you're my brother's lover and it's not a problem. So...next question," she comments with a wry grin.

"Oh...well..." I stammer. I can feel my face flushing a little. 

"'My' next question is - where's everyone else?" Walter interjects saving my reputation for being cool 'under fire'. He looks over Sylvia's shoulder towards the front door.

Sylvia's face loses some of its animation and she looks down. Walter catches the gesture immediately and looks at her. She looks up.

"Let me guess - Mother's not here," he rumbles.

"Well...no. Roger Jr. and Ben begged to go to McDonald's for lunch. She relented and drove them into Reedsville," Sylvia replies, shifting uncomfortably.

"What about Roger Sr.?" Walter asks. He's using the AD voice. It sounds just like he's interrogating a suspect. I can see the back of his neck tightening too. Oh brother.

"Walter..." I start to interrupt, trying to deter him from both treating his sister like a perp and also derail him from heading into an anger bender.

He glances at me and from the look on his face I know to shut up because my attempt to mediate will only make matters worse. Sylvia plunges on.

"Roger's on duty, Walter. He thought it would be nice if the boys and I could come down when Mom called and invited us."

"I see," Walter replies, setting his jaw.

Sylvia draws herself up straighter and sets her jaw as well. Oh oh. Now I do see even more of a family resemblance. Well, Walter...you're about to meet your match, I do believe. I step back and watch the fun transpire.

"You may think you do, but your vision's a little blurry," Sylvia states flatly.

"Oh?" Walter replies, putting his hands on his hips. "You're gonna try to tell me that Esther just happened to invite you and the boys up here this weekend? That she didn't do it because she wouldn't have to be alone with Mulder and I that way? And she didn't suggest she'd take the boys to McDonald's because she knew we'd be arriving for lunch and didn't want to be here to greet us?"

Sylvia stares him down, her hands on her hips as well.

"Walter, of course 'Mother' asked us to be here so she wouldn't have to be alone with you and Mulder. I mean come on...you know she's trying to deal with the situation but she's still having some trouble with it. It's awkward for her as I imagine it will be for both of you too. Do you blame her for wanting to have a little support? Besides...she hasn't seen the boys in a while. As for the McDonald's thing...no...that was all the boys' idea. She didn't want to take them but I told her to go ahead - they were driving me nuts," she replies, with a rueful shake of her head. "I told her I'd finish getting lunch ready for you two and she said she'd be back as soon as she could," she adds.

Walter holds her gaze for a few more seconds and then I can see him unbend. He starts to visibly relax. His spine seems to even unstiffen as I watch from behind. He takes his hands off his hips and sighs.

"All right. Sorry. And yeah...I...I can understand about the support. I know this isn't easy...on any of us," he replies, making his feelings known.

"Ok," she nods, putting her hands at her sides. "And yes, I realize this isn't going to be an easy weekend. I just want you...both of you to know - I'm here to support you too. I mean that, Walt."

"Thanks Syl," Walter touches her arm gently. "It's...it's really fantastic to see you. It's going to be great to see the boys again too."

Sylvia smiles and bends forward, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She pulls back and he looks down at his shoes.

"Yes...thank you," I murmur, looking down as well, embarrassed a little at her generosity of spirit.

She turns to me and Walter drops his hand to follow her gaze. "I'd like to apologize, Mulder," Sylvia comments. "I can't imagine it was very pleasant for you to see us caught up in an argument this way." 

Walter looks up with a contrite expression and I can't help it. That 'suck a lemon look' on his face tickles me sometimes. I give Sylvia a smirk.

"Oh...I'm used to Walter's growling...in and out of the office, believe me," I reply.

Walter scowls so I step forward and give him my own wet kiss on the cheek. Sylvia laughs loudly at Walter's surprised look.

"All right, cease and desist you two. I know when I'm being double-timed," he insists, smiling with pleasure now despite his words. He rubs at his face and gives me a grin as he continues. "You need any more help with fixing lunch, sis? I, for one, am starving. Just let me get my jacket and we can unpack the rest of the car after we eat. How does that sound?" he finishes with a question.

"Sounds like a plan to me," I reply. Yeah, my stomach is rumbling a little. I could definitely put on the feed bag.

"Well sure, I'm ready to eat too. You can both help with the salad. Do you know your way around the kitchen, Mulder?" Sylvia replies, grinning at me.

"Would it mean anything if I told you one of my nicknames is 'The Take-Out King'?"

Sylvia laughs again as Walter goes and retrieves his sports coat from the car. We all three turn to head towards the door.

"I think Walter said it was 'The Make-Out King' but we won't go there. Come on...I'll give you something easy to do...like setting the table," Sylvia replies as Walter barks a loud laugh at her remark, and my mouth open in shock.

xXx

Lunch proved to be the better for my non-participation in finishing its preparation I believe. Huge, heaping bowls of home-made New England clam chowder, fresh French bread, a Caesar salad and 8 inch glasses of iced tea were more than enough to satisfy us all and wonderful eating to boot. I wouldn't have objected to a beer, but when I opened the fridge to get the iced tea for Sylvia, there wasn't any in evidence. I figured a run to the store later might be in order. Of course if we want alcohol, we could always have the wine I brought along as a gift for the hostess later. It's a good dinner wine.

All three of us decided to sit around the kitchen island to eat, rather than setting the kitchen table or even the more formal dining room table. We took a quick tour of this house. It's fantastic. The open concept entryway, dining room and sunken living room combination we walked through were breathtaking. The kitchen is attached to that area and offers an open view of it though a rectangular opening between the rooms.

There's a door to a hallway leading to other rooms off one side of the great room. Along that side there's also a huge fireplace. There's a sliding door along another wall that leads out to a screened in porch that looks like it stretches across the entire back of the house. There's an entrance to the porch off the kitchen as well. The kitchen mud room opens out into the garage. We're going to park the Jeep in the garage after we unload it at the guest cottage. 

So now all three of us are chowing down and enjoying each other's company. I can hardly believe how easy and loose Walter is with his sister. He looks so relaxed. Younger. It's a great sight to see. But, somehow I expected him to be more formal and straight-laced. Oh he acts like his BVDs are too tight at moments with her, but it's one of those big brother/little sister things. You know...I'm older and the man of the house. I know better. She doesn't give in to that attitude very often though. So despite the brotherly/sisterly banter, you can tell they respect each other as adults. He listens to her carefully when she talks about what she and her husband have been doing in the community such as working to raise money for the local battered women's shelter. Sylvia and Roger sound like they're good people trying to show some civic responsibility.

The conversation gets really animated when Walter and his sister get around to discussing how his nephews are doing in school. It appears both boys are intelligent and applying themselves. Walter smiles at that concept, insisting they're taking after her then and not him. Sylvia laughs and says Roger said the same thing meaning they take after their mother and not their father.

Walter gives her a cursory description of what he's been doing at the Bureau. It's heavily edited. I gather that Sylvia's aware there's a lot he can't talk about in connection with his job - or things she may not want to hear. He does go into a couple of the more routine cases. One of them turns out to be a partially amusing story about some really inept drug smugglers.

I don't have too much to contribute in the way of work stories. What could I say? I try to add anecdotes where I can but for the most part I just listen and watch their exchanges. I'll wait till later to contribute more I guess. This time together is more for brother and sister to get caught up than for my benefit anyway. I experience a small twinge of pain as I watch them talk. I remember sitting with a woman I thought might be my sister first in my mother's house and later in a diner and trying to talk over old times with her. The memory of finding out that neither one was likely to be my real sister...well I don't want to go there right now.

Sylvia interrupts my dismal train of thought by asking me a few standard questions but I have to wonder if Walter prepped her. She asks mostly after my mother, not my father and she doesn't ask me if I have any brothers or sisters. She asks how my partner, Scully, is doing. I answer all her questions with sincerity to show I appreciate she cares. I smile when I talk about Scully. I guess it does turn out to be a nice exchange. I'm kind of glad Walter ran interference for me, I guess. It might be a little awkward to have to dance around my father being murdered with a shot to the head and my sister being abducted by aliens.

The other thing Walter hasn't explained to his family is the fact that Scully and I have been reassigned. He doesn't tell them everything about Bureau politics and in this case he's hoping to weather the storm without having to explain to them about Kersh, the fact we don't work for him anymore or his loss of face. I'm not sure it's a good idea to do this, but I have to respect his wishes in that area. It goes along with the idea that we should be optimistic and hope it all changes for the better soon and also the idea that Walter does shelter his family from some of the more Machiavellian dangers we encounter in regards to the 'dark side of the Force' that works against us. It's easy for me to go along with the charade. We're together as much as we can be outside the office anyway and as far as I'm concerned I'm ronin right now - a masterless samurai. Kersh will never be my superior. Walter the only supervisor I'll ever acknowledge anyway.

I also notice the subject of their mother doesn't come up right away. It's as if both of them are just letting it slide for a time while they catch up on personal business between them. Finally when Esther Skinner does come up it's in connection with the nephews.

Sylvia glances at her watch as Walter and I are pushing our empty soup bowls back.

"Mom and the boys should be back by now. I bet they dragged her to the comics store."

Walter chuckles.

"Ben still buying X-Men?"

"Yes, he's still loyal. Roger has started reading young adult science-fiction though. He may have talked Grandma into going to Barnes and Noble."

"Reedsville has a Barnes and Noble now?" Walter asks in disbelief. 

"Oh yeah, and a Starbucks."

"God."

"Progress," I chuckle.

Sylvia nods, "Of a sort...speaking of which...Walter...." she lets her voice trail off as she toys with a piece of French bread.

"Yeah?" Walter asks, studying her carefully.

"Well...Mom's invitation was kind of spur of the moment. We decided to come at the last minute."

"And?"

"And I haven't really had a chance to talk to the boys about you and Mulder. I didn't even tell them you were coming down and neither did Mom."

"Why didn't you tell them I was coming?" Walter asks, his brow creasing.

"Because...because Mom wasn't confident you would. You know what happened last time..."

Walter gives a rueful shake of his head.

"Yeah, I guess I do. I was in Baton Rouge," he smiles glancing over at me.

I laugh a little. Sylvia giggles as well.

"Yes. I understand Baton Rouge is where you and Walt came to a meeting of the minds, so to speak."

I laugh again, "That's a very succinct way of putting it, yes." 

"Well at any rate, we didn't want to disappoint them again just in case some last minute FBI business kept you away again."

Walter stares at her for a second and then his face clouds over. 

"You sure she isn't just trying to protect them against finding out about us? Does she think they're not ready to hear their uncle's queer?" Walter spits out bitterly.

"Hey..." I interrupt, shocked at the anger in his voice.

"Walter, I know she used that term at first...but...she's come a long way from thinking that way. Walt...she loves you very deeply. I just think it was a shock like I said. Maybe she wasn't sure how to handle it with Roger and Ben herself but she did tell me she trusted we could tell them whatever way we wanted to do it."

"Yeah, big guy. Relax, ok?" I murmur, rubbing my hand over Walter's back. He sighs and leans into my hand a little.

"Yeah...I'm...sorry. Syl...things have been a little tense that's all. I'm jumpy. I...Mulder and I both really need this vacation I guess," he nods, smiling weakly at us both.

"I understand, Walt. And you know...the boys are going to be so excited to see you," she smiles gently, laying her hand over Walter's larger one.

I remove my hand from his back and watch him as he still wrestles with the idea of telling his two adoring nephews that their uncle is in love with another man.

"Well I hope they're excited to meet my friend here. Crap, Sylvia. How do you want to handle this?" he grinds out.

"Can't you just tell them I'm...uh...one of your agents that needed a rest so you invited me down here? Tell 'em I don't have a family to visit during the holidays. You know my mother had other plans, anyway. I certainly wasn't going to Connecticut," I suggest, clearing my throat.

My mother made it abundantly clear that she really did have to visit her sister. Yeah, she hadn't seen her in a while so I guess it was legit. In any event, I was going to be alone if Walter had come down here on his own.

"That might be all right," Sylvia offers, patting Walter's hand and then removing her hand again.

Walter considers the idea briefly, running his hand over his scalp. I can tell he's wrestling with the 'one of his agents' idea. Well that's his decision and he's determined to stick with it. Like I said - I'll go along with it too.

"Yeah, I guess that would work for now. But...I think it might be a good idea if one of us tried to explain things before too long. Mulder and I are going to be sharing the guest house after all. They're perceptive. They might ask questions."

"I agree. I do intend to bring it up. Roger and I have gay friends...well gay women friends. I don't think it's going to be...." 

Before she can finish her thought, we hear a car engine out front. 

"Oh, that must be them," Sylvia exclaims, rising.

Walter gets up to follow her. I hang back. Walter turns and raises an eyebrow.

"Come on, Mulder," he says, gesturing towards the door.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second. I'll just put the dishes in the dishwasher."

Sylvia grabs me by the hand.

"No way, tall, dark and handsome. You're not getting out of it that easily. Come along, time to meet the Dragon Lady."

"Oh shit," I reply, practically groaning.

"Safety in numbers, Boy Wonder," Walter adds, his mouth tight. 

"Tell that to a lemming," I mumble. Walter chuckles a little and proceeds Sylvia and I out the kitchen door.

xXx

Walter strides purposely through the dining room and then down and out through the sunken living room. Sylvia, still holding my hand, strides equally as briskly trying to keep up.

We're almost on top of him when two young boys, one tall and dark with glasses the other shorter, freckled and a little more fair come running through the front door.

"Mom! Mom!" the younger boy yells.

"Don't run!" Sylvia calls out and both boys pause in their headlong rush. It's then that they spot Walter.

The youngest cries out "UNCLE WALTER!" and barrels forward. Walter wisely braces himself as the bundle of energy plows into him, grabbing his waist in a bear hug.

"Ben," Walter breathes out with a slight whoosh of expelled air. He hugs the boy tightly back.

The older boy, who by default must be Roger Jr. stands back a step or two. He's older, more reserved. I'm reminded instantly of a younger Walter. Walter looks up, from holding Ben close. He strokes the younger boy's hair and looks over his head.

"Roger," he rumbles lifting his right hand and extending it towards Ben's brother. Ben steps back and the older boy moves in close, taking Walter's hand in a firm grip. He starts to deliver a handshake. Then his mouth turns up in a huge smile and he flings himself into Walter's arms as well, all pretense at decorum lost in his true excitement at seeing his uncle.

Ben darts forward and both boys are hugging their uncle tight. Walter's face is shining with a 1000 kilowatt smile.

"Well it looks like they found the surprise," a quiet voice observes, drawing our attention to the front door. I look away from watching my lover's face into the face of Esther Skinner, his mother. 

"Mother," Walter replies, formally. His smile fades and he inclines his head in his mother's direction.

Esther Skinner is tall. Certainly as tall as Sylvia who she resembles most strongly. Now I know which parent Sylvia favors. It's obvious at one time that Esther was very beautiful. She's still striking. I'd estimate her age between 65 and 70, but she's very youthful. Her hair, coiffed in a stylish soft, page-boy, still contains some rich brown highlights mixed amongst the gray. She's dressed in a simple but elegant flowered summer dress, short sensible heels and carrying a small purse which she lays on a table by the door.

Esther's grandsons step away from Walter as she comes forward. She walks with tremendous grace up to my lover and stretches out her arms. Walter moves forward and she gathers him close and hugs him very tight.

"Son," I hear her murmur, "I'm so glad to see you." Walter smiles now and says something I don't catch. Esther kisses him on the cheek. 

"We didn't know you were coming, Uncle Walter," Roger interjects eagerly.

"Yeah, this is great!" Ben exclaims.

Esther releases Walter and steps back holding his hands to look at him for a moment.

"It certainly is," Esther smiles at her first born. "You look well, Walter. Fit, but tired. I'm glad you could get away for a few days," she nods matter-of-factly. Walter gives her hand a brief squeeze and she lets his go then.

"It's good to be here, really. And yeah...I think I can definitely use the time off."

Sylvia squeezes my hand and clears her throat. Walter glances in our direction. Sylvia drops my hand and Walter indicates me.

"Mother, Roger, Ben...this is Fox Mulder. Agent Fox Mulder..." he begins. He doesn't get any further.

"An FBI agent? Do you work with Uncle Walter? Are you an Assistant Director too? How many agents work for you, Mr. Mulder? Can I see your gun? Uncle Walter carries a Glock. Do you carry a..."

"Ben, zip it," Roger pushes his little brother in the arm.

Esther walks around Walter and towards me.

"Yes, perhaps Mr. Mulder would like to answer one question at a time, Ben. Fox, I'm Esther Skinner. Welcome to Judge's Point," she replies, smiling a little at me as she extends her hand.

I take her hand and grip it firmly. She does so in return and we shake. Her hand is warm. I smile wide and look her directly in the eyes. We study each other. I can tell she's sizing me up. Her eyes are keenly intelligent. I can see where Walter gets that thousand mile stare of his that's for sure. I would bet Esther is one tough cookie in the board room. After a few moments of her scrutiny and very authoritative handshake, she seems to like what she sees. Her smile grows a bit warmer even though her eyes are still a little wary. Well at least she's polite and meeting me halfway here I think. I nod and respond.

"It's a pleasure to be here, ma'am. It's a beautiful house. I'm...honored to have been invited out here."

"Thank you - and please call me Esther. Consider this your home for the next few days, Fox. Any friend of Walter's is always welcome here," she finishes.

"Thanks...Esther and...I'll do that," I reply. I was about to tell her to call me Mulder but since she put herself on a first-named basis I can't quite bring myself to do it.

"Mom, would you like some iced tea?" Sylvia interjects as Esther releases my hand.

"Did you all eat then?" she inquires.

"Yes, you outdid yourself on that clam chowder," Walter compliments her.

"That was fantastic," I nod in confirmation.

"Oh...well that's an old recipe," she smiles at me, thawing a little more. "I...I can give it to you later if you'd like."

"That would be great. I think my mother might like to try it as well. And I might even give it a shot myself sometime," I reply.

"Remind me later and I'll write it down for you," she replies, a small grin flitting about her mouth.

I catch a glimpse of Walter rolling his eyes a little. Yeah, well yuck it up big guy. I'm trying to at least make a stab at impressing your mother you big ingrate.

Roger and Ben are practically vibrating with unanswered questions. Esther glances at them, smiles and speaks to Sylvia again.

"I think a glass of iced tea would be a good idea. Would you both like to join me for another glass?" she asks Walter and I.

"I think we'll unpack the car over at the cottage. Then we'll come back up here and join you," Walter advises, also taking in Roger and Ben's fidgeting. "You guys want to help? Then maybe Mr. Mulder can tell you about being a field agent for the FBI."

"Field agent!?" Ben exclaims. "All right!"

I laugh as Ben tugs on my hand, pulling me back towards the front door.

"Excuse us," I call back over my shoulder. Walter kisses his mother quickly on the cheek and then trots off after us, Roger in tow.

xXx

Ben keeps up a steady stream of questions as we exit the house and head over to the Jeep. Walter looks on with amused tolerance as I try to backtrack and answer some of the questions he already asked in the house.

"My partner and I work for your Uncle Walter. Like he said, I'm a field agent. And uh...I carry a Smith and Wesson. I think your uncle does now too," I let out in a rush. I'm hoping the last statement deflects any more questions for a while. As cute as the kid is I came down here to get away from work, not talk about it in detail. My ploy is successful too because Ben turns, walking backward to talk to Walter.

"You got a Smith and Wesson. Can we see it?" the younger boy asks Walter.

"You remember what we said about guns?" Walter replies, raising an eyebrow as he reaches the back of the Jeep. I toss him the keys and he deftly plucks them out of the air. He opens the gate and takes a step back, facing the boy, to hear the answer to the question.

"Yes sir. Guns aren't toys," Ben replies solemnly. "We're not to be handling them until Mom and Dad say we're old enough to take our hunter safety courses."

"And most FBI agents never draw their weapon in the line of duty, much less fire it," Roger adds seriously.

"Right." Walter nods. He flips his jacket open and displays the gun in its holster. "This is my new Smith and Wesson. Maybe after dinner tonight if it's all right with your mother I'll take it out and just show it to you. But not right now. We need to get the Jeep over to the cottage so we can unpack it."

"Yes, sir," Ben replies agreeably.

"Yes, sir," Roger echoes.

"Ok. Hop in the back," Walter smiles at them, tapping the rim of the hatch.

"Yes, sir," I reply, smirking as his two nephews rush to comply to his suggestion. Walter motions towards his piece and mimes drawing it. I hold both my hands up in surrender and he chuckles.

"Get in, Agent Mulder," he growls.

Oh baby. Goosebumps of arousal course up and down my back at that low rumbling order. I swallow hard and hustle my ass around the front of the Jeep to the passenger door. I climb aboard as Walter opens the driver side door and climbs in as well.

"Agent Mulder, is your partner on vacation too?" Ben asks, curiosity in his voice.

"Yeah. She's with her family this weekend."

"Your partner's a woman?" Roger asks, surprise in his voice.

"Special Agent Dana Scully," I reply smiling back at them. Walter turns the key over, starts the engine and puts the Jeep in reverse, backing it up to angle onto the driveway that leads to the cottage. 

"Wow, cool," Ben replies.

"Oh, yeah, she's pretty cool," I nod.

"Agent Scully is a forensic pathologist as well as an FBI agent," Walter adds, as he puts the car in drive and gives it the gas.

"Fo-ren-sic....what?" Ben asks, thinking hard as if he knows the answer but can't quite remember it.

"She cuts up dead people," Roger states flatly.

"Yuck," Ben makes a face as Roger laughs at his discomfort.

While we drive the short distance down to the cottage Walter and I give a layman's and slightly edited definition of what Scully actually does in connection with being a forensic pathologist. The boys are duly impressed and naturally they both want us to bring Scully the next time we come to visit them either at Judge's Point or their house in Ambler. You know, I bet Scully would like to meet these two guys. I hope so anyway. I think the fact that they're boys...well...they wouldn't remind her too much of Emily that way. 

Walter also briefly explains that I'm down here on vacation to get a rest after a very hard case I just closed out. So, go light on the questions is the message he impresses on them. He deftly steers the conversation around to what they've been doing with their summer so far. Both boys regale us with stories of their triumphs in the summer boy's soccer league as well as the class on PCs Ben's taking and Roger's exploration of the insect world in a class being given though the Ambler public library young adult section. As a result our unloading of the Jeep goes very quickly. We get our bags stowed in the cottage without further ado.

The cottage is a mirror image of the main house just on a smaller scale. It's really one main room, consisting of a bedroom, living room, dining area combination. No kitchen but there is a coffee-maker. I guess we're expected to take our meals at the main house. The bathroom is nicely sized however with a big shower and bathtub. There's a sliding glass, curtained door that leads out to a small patio containing an umbrella covered table and four chairs. It's not a small house - just the right size for two people to vacation comfortably in really. The decorating scheme is typically Maryland Shore I guess. I'm not much on recognizing every design style - but this one is light and airy - all pale wood furniture - night stands, dressers, small couch and two overstuffed chairs, small kitchen type table and two chairs - well the usual. The bed's a King I notice with a smile. I also notice that Esther has arranged for a folded up daybed to be placed to one side of the room. Walter glances at me when he notices it and I shrug. I guess that's for appearances so the boys won't ask too many questions. Whatever. I don't intend to use it.

I throw my duffel on the king-sized bed and hang my garment bag in the closet. Walter does the same. Both boys are pushing and wrestling a bit by the open front door of the cottage.

"You guys want to go back up to the main house and tell your mom and grandmother we're going to unpack? We'll be up in a few minutes." 

"Ok. See you later, Uncle Walter," Roger answers.

"Mr. Mulder," Ben finishes, with a last punch to Roger's arm.

"I'm gonna pound you," Roger hisses and Ben races away from him after giving him the finger. Roger rolls his eyes at us as if to say "kids" and runs off after his younger brother back towards the main house.

I walk over and shut the front door behind them.

"Well..." I begin.

Walter moves to his suitcase and opens it.

"Well that went better than I expected it would, I guess," Walter interrupts, finishing my thought.

"Yeah, it did," I affirm, walking over to stand in back of him. I move close and snake my hands around his waist. "I think Esther kind of likes me," I whisper in his ear as I rub his chest. I rub my crotch against his hard ass as I nuzzle his neck, kissing over his pulse point. I feel him tense up in my embrace. He shifts away a little and I let go of him.

"What's wrong?" I ask, stepping back.

He doesn't turn around but instead starts pulling articles out of his suitcase and tossing them onto the bed.

"Nothing," he replies. He takes his shaving kit out of the bag and walks away into the bathroom.

Oh for Christ sake. His jaw muscles are like steel bands. Ok. Something's clearly up here. I sigh. I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions but I will if I have to do it. I thought we had put uncommunicative Walter Skinner behind us. Evidently not. Well I can understand he's nervous but...why would he rebuff me? I watch through the patio doors as his two nephews scamper up the slight incline towards the main house. Maybe....

I follow Walter into the bathroom and shut the door behind us. He's arranging the items from his shaving kit in a neat row opposite my toiletries on top of the vanity. When he hears the door click he turns around.

"What's wrong?" I repeat. I lean against the door jamb and cross my arms over my chest.

He sighs and sags into himself a little, leaning back against the vanity, his hands braced behind him.

"Shit," he breathes out. "You're going to think this sounds stupid..."

"Let me guess. You didn't want your nephews to see us being intimate..."

"Partly..." he interrupts.

"But more importantly, you feel strange about having your lover be sexual with you in your mother's house," I add. His ears go scarlet. Bingo. Ah ha. Just what I expected was wrong. Well we can deal with this matter, I think. It's not that uncommon an occurrence when the newlyweds go home to meet the in-laws. "Do I need to point out...your mother's in the main house?"

"Fuck you," he shakes his head in self-deprecation and annoyance. 

"That is kind of the crux of the matter. Not to be crass...but I was expecting to get some this weekend."

The remark does cause his mouth to twitch into just a hint at a grin. He runs his hand up under his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose for a moment. I wait him out. He lowers his hand and draws himself up to stand straight again. His face drops into a more serious expression.

xXx

 

* * *

 

TITLE: Weighing In - Part 2 (Parts 9-16)  
(Part 9 of 32 parts)  
NAME: frogdoggie  
E-MAIL:   
CATEGORY: SRA

RATING: NC-17. M/SK. This story contains very explicit slash i.e. m/m sex. So, if you don't like that type of thing -STOP NOW! Forewarned is forearmed. Proceed with caution.

SUMMARY: Skinner and Mulder discuss Walter's weekend with Scully - amongst other pressing issues, and Fourth of July plans make matters even more interesting. The action here takes place immediately after "Lifting Weights" and "Weights and Measures". This story is part of the "Baton Rouge" series. Obviously you may want to read the series to understand this narrative. The "Baton Rouge" series can be found at:

http://homepages.go.com/~frogdoggie/3wstop.html

or my mirror site at: http://members.tripod.com/frogdoggie/fic.html

FEEDBACK - YES PLEASE, AND THANK YOU SIR, CAN I HAVE ANOTHER? Comments, suggestions and healthy debate are always welcome. Flames? They only serve to warm my body and mind.

TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Sixth Season before Two Fathers/One Son I think - in my timeline. So it would be safe to say any ep ever that appears before that two-parter would constitute a spoiler warning. It's also going to be obvious that I've changed the series timeline to fit into the Baton Rouge universe. I am trying to catch up with Season Six events now, however. We're rolling towards getting the X-Files back. Sort of. Oh - and still NO SR819 when that lamentable episode comes up! So, I've still kind of reinvented the mytharc for my AU as well. Sorry if all that bothers you - feel free to go elsewhere if it does. I won't mind.

KEYWORDS: story slash Skinner Mulder Scully NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Please see Part 1.

* * *

"All right, look. Yeah, you're right. I...well...crap. I know it's idiotic but you know how these things work. You go home to see your parents and no matter how old you are, no matter what you've accomplished or done in your life..."

"You're little Walter and there's nothing you can do about it?" I query, eyebrow raised.

"I guess I can be thankful she never called me Wally," he sighs, shaking his head again. "But, sure -that about sums it up, Mulder. A part of Esther will always see me as I was at about Roger's age I think. I...it's hard for me to deal with that idea sometimes. I feel like a jerk when it affects me. But, I can't help that it does affect me and I can't help feeling like a jerk when it does. Somehow...the idea of fucking..." he lets his voice trail off.

"Say 'making love', maybe it will help," I struggle not to smirk. 

"Whatever. Come on - you know what I mean."

"Ok. Yeah. I understand what you're saying believe me. It's the reason I think I'd never take you home to see my mother. I'm sure I couldn't deal with it and she'd...well it wouldn't be a pretty picture. But, listen - I didn't get the idea Esther was treating you like a child, Walter. I didn't even get the idea she disliked me." 

"We haven't been here that long," Walter growls. "And as far as disliking you...you saw that damn cot out there. You know why she put that out there, don't you? She...she's not willing to admit I'm sleeping with you. It was a non-verbal way for her to show her disapproval."

"Are you serious? I just thought she put it out there to keep the boys from asking questions. And how do you know Sylvia didn't put it out there anyway"

He stops, his brow knitted together, to consider those arguments. I watch him wrestle with logic versus his roiling emotions. I watch him realize he may be overreacting and then I watch him try to admit he might be wrong.

"Ok, yeah. I suppose you could be right about either one of those ideas. They do seem to want to work up to breaking this to the boys gently."

"Exactly. So, I think we have to give Esther the benefit of the doubt."

He stares at me and then nods, rocking back to lean against the vanity again. He crosses his arms in front of him.

"Damn Mulder...I...I really am sorry. I shouldn't be letting this get to me and I shouldn't be taking it out on you...or my family either for that matter."

I walk forward and sidestep his legs, parking my butt next to him against the vanity. I put my arm around his shoulder.

"Walter...this is a lot to go through. I know that. It's an awkward, uncomfortable issue that disrupts even the most well-adjusted families. Finding out a son or daughter is gay or...or bisexual or whatever can be very traumatic. I think we just all have to keep our heads...relax, and do the best we can."

He sighs and leans into me a little. I rub his arm.

"Yeah. I guess I just need a little time. I...and I'm sorry I just don't feel like...well I don't feel..."

"You're too tense that's why. Don't worry about it. When you're ready I'm sure I'll be here. I'll be here even if you aren't ready," I whisper, bending close and kissing him on the cheek. He smiles a little. I pat his back and get up.

"We'd better get unpacked and back up to the house," I conclude. 

"Right," he breathes out. I cross to the bathroom door, open it and return to my suitcase.

When we both get back to the bed, Walter gives me my key to the cottage. There are two, one for each of us. I pocket it and we both turn to unpacking with a vengeance. Before too long I've almost got my stuff completely stowed away. I put my gun in the night stand drawer, deciding once again to opt out of carrying it into the main house. Walter keeps his on, mindful that he did promise the boys to show it to them later as well as keeping to the more strict adherence to the regulations again.

He's just taking the last of his articles out of his suitcase. I drop my running shoes to the floor and bark a loud laugh when I see him step back, his hands full.

"What?" he rumbles, raising an eyebrow. He's standing there holding a container of Metamucil in one hand and a bottle of top shelf bourbon in the other.

I start to laugh harder.

"Mulder..." he growls.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry. It's just the...the juxtaposition of those two items. The...the suggestion of...of...hell I don't know what that connotes. But it's a hell of an image," I reply, gesturing towards his hands. "If you were a painting the title would be something like "The AD's Assistants."

I can tell he wants to laugh but he'd rather die than do it. Walter has really lethal self-control when he needs it. He's calling that control up right now out of the very core of his being. He delivers his reply in perfect AD speak and it's a marvel to behold. 

"Let me elucidate for you, Agent Mulder. This...." he says, holding up the Metamucil. "This is for loosening up in the morning. This...." he continues. "This is for loosening up at night...or any other fucking time I want to get loose. Now...any questions?"

I can't answer at all. I'm helpless with choking laughter. Tears are squishing out of my eyes and trickling down my cheeks. All I can do is shake my head.

"Good," Walter nods and he proceeds to take both the booze and the 'fiber supplement' into the bathroom.

A sudden thought occurs to me! Bourbon! Jesus. I almost forgot! I brought that bottle of dinner wine. I rummage around in the bottom of my duffel and come out with the paper bag. I set the bottle on the night stand, take my running shorts out of the bag and throw them in a drawer. Walter comes back out of the bathroom. I'm under control now so it's a lot more easy to speak.

"The bourbon made me remember. I brought your mother a bottle of wine," I gesture towards the bottle as I pick up my duffel and toss it into the corner of the room next to the closet.

Walter's brow furrows. Oh shit now what? He clears his throat. 

"Mulder...my mother doesn't drink. She...uh...she's an ex-alcoholic. We...got out of the habit of having booze around, I guess. It's why I automatically put the bourbon in the can instead of taking it up to the house."

"Oh...I..."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I never even thought to mention it. But...she won't mind if you want to bring the wine on up for dinner. You, and I and Sylvia can drink it."

"Shit. I don't want to do that...I mean not if it's going to be bad form."

"Don't worry about it. Sylvia's husband brings beer when he comes out here. My mother's not going to mind."

"Ok. I'll bring it along then," I reply, nodding.

Great. I'm going to look like a fool I think with a sinking feeling. I guess Walter didn't think a bottle of wine was something I was going to bring. Or maybe he didn't think I'd bring a gift at all. That idea annoys me a little too. Well, it can't be helped. I don't want to get angry over something so minor league. I'll just try to present it without looking like a total jackass.

Hard on the heels of all those thoughts comes the feeling yet again that there are so many things I don't know about Walter's family. I still feel shame over it. If I'd bothered to care about finding out I wouldn't be caught flat-footed here.

"Mulder, it's the thought that counts," Walter assures me quietly, patting me on the shoulder. "And I'm sorry. It should have occurred to me that you'd have enough class to bring a gift."

I smile wide, feeling like a heel and a king all at once. Walter claps me on the back.

"Come on, Agent Mulder. Your fan club awaits."

"Yeah, your nephews are great, Walter. Really nice kids."

"They're special, Mulder. I...I love them like they were my own boys. I can tell they like you. I'm really glad about that too. It'll mean a lot to me if they can accept you...well...as family."

"It'll mean a lot to me too, Walter, " I reply quietly. "Really." 

He nods and places a large hand on the back of my neck, stroking the nape a little.

"Thanks, babe," he replies. "Now, we'd better haul ass. They're gonna think we got lost on our way back."

"Sounds like a plan," I reply, smiling. He drops his hand and we both head for the cottage door.

xXx

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing something I hadn't done in ages - nothing. Well...whiling away the hours just getting acquainted with Sylvia, Walter's nephews and Esther. No mutants, aliens, conspiracy or bureaucratic bullshit in sight. Walter seemed to appreciate the last idea a whole lot. I watched him relax a little bit at a time as the afternoon played out.

After we parked the Jeep in the 3-car garage, I did present my bottle of wine. It was received graciously and with no hint that it wasn't appreciated. Sylvia saw to that also when she thanked me for choosing a good year and took the bottle in to chill it in the refrigerator.

We all took our iced tea out to the screened in back porch and watched the sunlight reflect off the creek. It was so quiet. Beautiful. After a few more probing questions about what fascinating cases Agent Mulder and his partner, Agent Scully have solved for the Bureau, the boys grew bored with the adult company and opted for going fishing off the dock. Sylvia acquiesced, telling them to be careful and if they were going to hare off somewhere else to let her know first. They hurried away to collect their fishing tackle, leaving us sitting on the porch.

The conversation turned to adult things. The arts, movies, sports, some politics, local Chesapeake Bay lore. Esther tells about building Judge's Point. It turns out the house is named after the location. It was built by Esther and Walter, Sr. as a getaway - someplace to escape to when the business back in Pennsylvania got to be too overwhelming. As it turns out, Walter's father came from this area originally so the creek and the bay were like a refuge for him, for them both.

Walter and Sylvia engage in some additional gentle brother/sister teasing. I can see real love between them hidden behind the good-natured goading. Esther enters into it, sometimes taking Sylvia's side and sometimes Walter's. I get a sense of Esther Skinner as we talk. She is tough. She's had to be because she's been a woman in the world of business for years. It appears Walter's father died just before Walter entered the FBI Academy. So, she's been head of the family business since then.

Esther's got an iron will forged from old New England stock. She's opinionated, and doesn't back down in a debate. But I think she's...fair. She seems willing to listen and if you can best her in debate she respects you. I sense a gentle side despite her reputation for being 'The Dragon Lady'. I have to wonder what she did to Walter and Sylvia in the past to make them see her as harsh and unyielding so much of the time. She's not coming across that way this afternoon. Oh, sure, she's tough like I said...but not abrasively so. She may be on her best behavior but somehow I think you get the real Esther Skinner whether you want her or not.

She's nothing, if not, honest and blunt.

I may never find out why Walter and Sylvia both love and hate her, although I'd like to know. It would help me in further understanding Walter. I have to think it had something to do with her drinking. I certainly know how that can damage a family.

Eventually the discussion peters out and we're all sitting and sipping our iced teas in companionable silence. Sylvia and Esther are watching the boys and I'm watching...Walter. He's removed his sports jacket and hung it up over the back of the chaise. His muscular biceps ripple as he shifts to sip from his iced tea glass. He's magnificent really. Tanned, toned, and as sexy as hell stretched out on the chaise lounge next to the chair where Sylvia is sitting. She has her feet up on a small hassock. Esther is sitting next to her, her feet up on another small hassock. I'm seated next to Walter on the opposite side of the chaise lounge. I've got my feet propped up on a straight-backed chair. All of us have taken our shoes off.

I continue to let my eyes surreptitiously rove over Walter's profile. My eyes naturally fall slowly lower, down his muscular chest and abdomen, past his groin....until I reach that tell-tale bulge in his khakis. Oh oh. Bad idea. I feel a pleasant warmth pool in my groin. I snatch my eyes away and take a long swig of my iced tea, draining it. I set the glass on the floor and refocus my attention on the fantastic view over the creek and Sylvia's boys casting their lines into the water. I let my mind wander until Esther breaks into my reverie.

"Fox, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Esther, go ahead."

"I notice Walter and Sylvia call you Mulder? Do you prefer to be called Mulder rather than Fox?"

"Uh...well I just got used to it I guess. Agent Scully and I call each other Scully and Mulder. I guess I've just gotten into the habit," I reply.

"I see. Well...if you don't mind I'd like to call you Fox...I rather like it. It's distinctive."

I nod. "It is that," I chuckle. Well I guess I can live with her calling me Fox. After all - if it'll help smooth the way here. "And I don't mind," I add, smiling at her. I sit back and sip some more of my iced tea.

"Walter tells me you've been partnered with Agent Scully for six years," she observes, setting her nearly empty glass of iced tea down on the small table that's right at her elbow. She turns to watch me, her face neutral.

"Yes, that's correct," I nod, looking past Walter and Sylvia to talk to their mother.

"She's a doctor too right, Mulder?" Sylvia asks with interest. 

"Forensic pathologist," Walter interjects, taking a sip of his iced tea.

"Right," I confirm.

"She sounds very professional," Esther adds, sitting back again to stare off over the creek.

"She's the best to be totally frank. I...I don't know how I'd manage without her working with me. We'd certainly have a lower solve rate," I reply.

Esther turns again and raises an eyebrow.

"It sounds like you appreciate her a great deal."

"I owe her my life, several times over actually. She's saved it more than once in the line of duty," I answer sincerely.

"It's nice to hear a man talk about their female colleague that way. Some of Roger's fellow firemen can be...well there's still a certain amount of resistance to women in the firehouse. Sometimes it can get a little rough. The women aren't appreciated for what they can do," Sylvia adds.

"Agent Scully is a crack agent. A credit to the Bureau," Walter adds catching his mother's eye.

Esther nods. "I have to say I find all that fascinating. I also think it's about time women got some recognition in that organization," she states matter-of-factly. "The Bureau's been an old boys school for entirely too long."

Walter rumbles a chuckle and sits back, relaxing a little.

Esther gives her son an accusatory look. It's not completely serious however and he knows it. She shakes her finger at him.

"Don't you laugh, Walter Sergei Skinner. It's up to you to set an example when it comes to equal rights for all your employees."

"Oh I treat them as equals all right. I'm equally as hard on both Agent Scully and Agent Mulder," Walter replies, grinning a little. "I don't cut either one of them any slack," he adds.

"I can vouch for that being the truth," I chuckle, running my hand though my hair. "Walter is very fair when it comes to being a hard-nosed AD. Fair...but he doesn't suffer fools," I confirm.

Esther nods chuckling a little herself.

"Good. He wouldn't be a Skinner if he did," she replies. "Besides, I would think the idea of equal treatment is particularly important to Walter now...under the circumstances," she adds.

Esther's remark is met with total silence.

Walter blinks and then his face changes from relaxed good humor to stone in a matter of seconds. Sylvia swallows and looks at her mother. I'm not sure if Esther meant to say what she did but the bomb dropped and now we have to deal with the fallout.

"Are you referring to...to my sexual orientation? That being gay should make me more sensitive towards that type of discrimination on the job?" Walter asks stiffly, setting his empty iced tea glass on the floor.

"Walter..." I begin to interrupt. But Walter plunges on, ignoring me and not giving his mother a chance to answer.

"Because if you are, Mother, you must realize my...Mulder and my...sexual orientation is a different situation. Homosexuality and treating women with equality are two totally different issues at the Bureau," Walter begins, his voice tightly controlled.

Esther looks contrite. Ok. Maybe she didn't quite mean for what she said to come out the way it did. It had after all, come on the heels of a bantering remark. A little mother/son teasing. But her words are just another manifestation of the issues that are bound to come up this weekend. Everyone is going to be making these unconscious slips as well as trying to second-guess if what they're about to say is politically correct. It's not an easy situation to be in. I'm torn between keeping my mouth shut and trying to play peacemaker. My Mulder motor mouth wins out. I start to say something further to smooth things over, but Esther speaks again.

"Yes. I realize it's different," she replies, her voice clipped. She speaks quietly but her tone and expression warn that this should probably be the end of the conversation for now.

At least the public conversation. I have a feeling Walter is really dying to have a private chat with his mother. He'd like to deal with this situation right now. He's the kind of man who likes to meet a situation head on. Being part of an unresolved situation - unfinished business - is still something he finds objectionable in the extreme. It's a control issue and Walter still wrestles with that issue of control. Taking the reins and settling a matter is a way to maintain control. And he's very good at taking the reins.

Walter's tired right now. About a lot of things - but right at this moment he's tired of having to pussyfoot around his family, the Bureau, his friends and the rest of the world over who he chooses to love. If he could just have one place, outside our own little world of his apartment or some damn motel room where we could be ourselves I think he could breathe again. But right now he's choking and it's making my heart ache to watch him.

Walter starts to speak again but he's interrupted by two excited boys' voices.

"Mom, look what we caught!" Ben exclaims as he and Roger come barreling up toward the screened in porch's door. Roger's holding a string full of nicely sized striped bass.

"Oh my...I think the question of what to have for dinner is solved," Sylvia exclaims, trying to hide the tension in her voice. 

Ben opens the screen door and both boys come onto the porch. They stare at all of us for a moment. These kids are obviously not slow on the uptake it seems. They sense something's going on with the adults. But they're willing to shrug it off in the face of their mother's recognition of their prowess as fishermen.

"Want us to help you clean them, Mom?" Roger asks magnanimously. 

"Sure, you two can help me fix the whole dinner if you'd like to help," she replies, glancing at her watch. "It's about time I started it. Nana, Uncle Walter and Mr. Mulder can visit longer that way." 

"Ok, Mom," Ben replies, nodding.

"Great. Go put the fishing tackle away and then come back in through the garage door. I'll take the fish," Sylvia replies, getting up. The boys make a quick exit after Roger hands his mother the fish. Sylvia holds them away from her gingerly and smiles wanly at me.

"Mulder...consider yourself lucky you're not doing this tonight." 

"Me?" I answer raising an eyebrow.

Esther clears her throat and looks at me.

"Yes, I don't know if Walter told you but we have a tradition here regarding dinner. We take turns. Tonight is Sylvia's turn. Tomorrow night is Walter and by default...your turn. I'll be doing the Sunday's Fourth of July meal - the steamed crabs and oysters."

"Yes, we gorge and then we all drive into Reedsville for the fireworks," Sylvia adds.

"Oh I see. Well, Sylvia...I could trade off with you tonight..." I offer, standing up and moving around the chaise lounge. Yeah...talking with Walter and his mother right now doesn't seem like a fantastic proposition.

"No, no...that's fine. The boys really do want to show off their dad's fish cleaning instructions. So, I'd better let them try to impress me," she laughs gently. "I'll call you all when it's ready." 

"Thank you, dear," Esther nods as Sylvia smiles and leaves us alone on the deck.

We all stare at each other. I sit down in the chair that Sylvia just vacated. I figure I can act as a buffer if necessary. Esther and Walter have identical 'I'm sucking a lemon' expressions on their faces. I'm dangerously close to laughing at them out of a mixture of nervousness and reaction to their faces. I clear my throat.

"So...uh...it looks like the weather will be nice all weekend," I begin. Oh piss on it. Talk about your lame conversational opening. Walter's quiet voice draws our attention a second after I speak.

"Mom...we've got until Tuesday here...are we going to dance around the issue the whole time?" Walter interrupts quietly.

Esther sighs.

"Uh...hey...I can still go help with dinner..." I interject, making a last ditch effort to allow Walter and his mother their privacy.

Walter reaches out and takes my hand in his, holding it tight. He looks in my eyes and the message is clear. Stay. For better or worse this is the moment of truth and I need you here for support. I nod slightly.

"No. Stay," he replies, turning to his mother and brandishing our joined hands.

"Mother...I can't...I can't deny this...my love for Mulder. I want...I want to give you the time to understand but if this whole weekend is going to be this tense I..."

"Walter...I'm trying, really. It's just that...and please, Fox...this is nothing against you. I can tell you seem like a fine person. A very good man. But...a man," she blusters looking at me. She turns to her son and addresses him again. "I mean, Walter...you were married for 17 years..." she lets her voice trail off.

I can see that she's trying to reconcile her previous conceptions of her son with the man sitting before her now. The Walter Skinner who seemed straight and was married to Sharon, with the man who is now professing his love for me. If it took Walter years to admit his sexual preference to himself and finally act on it, it's not hard to imagine how Esther is finding this all hard to believe. After all, Walter went out of his way to stay in the closet. To hide that side of his life from everyone, even his family. So, I do have some sympathy for Esther here. Walter's confusion has led to more confusion and now it's going to take some understanding on both their parts to straighten it all out.

"And my marriage ended in divorce because I couldn't face the fact that I really wanted a man and not a woman," Walter whispers, releasing my hand.

Esther folds her arms across her chest. Walter gets up out of the chaise lounge and goes to sit on the hassock Sylvia had her feet on. He leans close to his mother, his hands on his knees, and studies her face.

"I know...I know you had great hopes for me and Sharon, Mom. I realize you wanted grandchildren...a grandson maybe...to carry on the family name. I know you're disappointed that didn't happen. Disappointed in that and a lot of things I did or didn't do - like going to Vietnam and then going to the FBI Academy and not taking over the business after...after Father died."

"Walter...I..."

 "Let me finish, Mom, please. You know it's...it's difficult for me to...to get things like this out."

Esther nods. I want to go to Walter so badly and hold him now I can feel the muscles in my arms twitching. He swallows a little and plunges on. Both Esther and I are a captive audience -captivated by this intense, strong and proud man spilling his guts and practically begging for compassion from the woman who gave birth to him.

"I know finding out I'm...that I'm gay is probably another disappointment for you...but...I just wish you could understand that for the first time in my damned life...I'm happy. Mulder...Mulder has made me happy, Mom. I'm...I'm not alone anymore. I just want you to try to learn to accept that and accept us as a couple so that I don't have to feel like an outsider when I come home. Can you try to do that, Mom? Can you?" he finishes, pinning her eyes.

Esther takes a deep breath. I can see her eyes are moist but she's not going to cry. Walter's mother has that iron control as well. She straightens herself and puts her hand on Walter's hand where it rests on his knee.

"Walter...I know we've talked about my disappointment in you before. I know I hurt you very badly at one time by expressing those feelings. I never really meant them. Those were bad times...before...before I dealt with my drinking. I hoped...I hoped we were past that now. Son...I'm very proud of you...I love you and I know you've been unhappy in some unfathomable way for a very long time."

Walter ducks his head, "Mother...I..."

"Walter, you....you must know I love you," Esther adds, her voice almost cracking. It's filled with a longing to make amends to a son she may have wronged grievously in the past.

"Yes...I know you love me. I'm...I'm sorry. It's just that...you're right about the hurt. It runs deep sometimes. I...I still have trouble dealing with it," he replies bluntly.

Esther strokes his hand, "And I will have guilt to last me the rest of my life over that, son. I can't say how sorry I am."

Walter looks up into his mother's eyes and I see tears in his as well. He nods but he can't say anything else. Some kind of silent understanding passes between mother and son. I hope it's Walter's forgiveness. I can't be sure but it seems to be all right because Esther nods and continues.

"I want you to be happy, Walter. If...if being with Fox is what's brought love into your life and brought you that kind of joy then...then I can try to celebrate that fact. But...you're going to have to give me time too, son. You must realize this is a lot for an old, conservative, New Englander to absorb. I'm doing the best I can...I want to do better and I am going to try."

"Esther...I appreciate you inviting me down here. I think...I think that shows your willingness to give me the benefit of the doubt," I interject quietly.

"Well I appreciate your saying that, Fox. I did want to meet you," she nods in acknowledgment of my comment. She takes her hand off Walter's hand and turns her attention fully on me. "I want to meet anyone Walter is...is...well...let's not beat around the bush here - anyone Walter is courting. I mean that's what we're discussing here isn't it - a possible marriage?" she adds raising an eyebrow.

Walter straightens up and turns to glance at me.

"I think we're talking long-term relationship," he replies raising his eyebrows.

"I think that's accurate," I smile broadly at him. Walter smiles back, love for me showing plainly on his face.

Esther glances from me to Walter and grins a little.

"Well your intentions had best be honorable, Agent Mulder. If you make my son unhappy, there will be hell to pay," she blusters. I can tell it's just bravado and an attempt to play at acting tough to lighten the mood a little. The corner of Walter's mouth twitches up. He has the same idea.

"Yes, ma'am," I reply, nodding seriously.

She turns back to Walter. Walter locks eyes with her again. His face grows serious again. His eyes are as unprotected as I've even seen them. As open to his soul as when we're making love. He desperately wants to believe his mother is willing to understand. No matter what horrible things she said to him or did to him in the past he wants to believe that it is all in the past. He needs to believe that Esther has truly changed and there's hope for acceptance here. I'm practically holding my breath as well. I hope to hell she's going to do the right thing.

"Son...I'm going to try...honestly...I mean it," she finishes. 

I let out my breath. Walter nods and then he shifts forward. As I watch, my hard as nails lover, the tough, ex-Marine and taciturn Assistant Director, lays his head on his mother's lap and hugs her waist tight. Esther reaches up and stokes the hair at the back of his head and I have to look away. Tears spring instantly into my eyes. The sight is too intense for me to watch.

"Um...if you'll excuse me...I need to...use the bathroom," I mumble, getting up from the chair. I swing my legs off the opposite side so as not to bump into Walter and exit the porch as quickly and quietly as possible. Neither Walter or Esther show any reaction that I'm leaving their company.

xXx

After going into the can to run cold water on my face and take a leak, I went into the kitchen and got in the way while Sylvia and the boys finished preparing dinner. I couldn't really answer Sylvia's raised eyebrows very well other than to shrug and mouth the words "It's ok," before the boys started peppering me with more questions about my adventures as a field agent. I told them about a really boring case where the UFO sightings turned out to be college students with laser lights and hot air balloons. It succeeds in making them lose interest temporarily in my exploits. I listen while they discuss everyday mom and son stuff. It's fun to listen in.

Esther and Walter turn up just after we have the dining room table set and are about to call them in for dinner anyway. Walter looks tired but more content. Esther looks about the same. Dinner, consisting of the bass, a large tossed salad, French bread, wine for Sylvia, Walter and I, and milk for Esther and the boys transpires uneventfully. Nothing about what happened on the back porch is even hinted at in the dinner conversation.

I help Sylvia clear the table, letting the boys off the hook so that they can go into the living room with Walter and Esther. It's dusk and as I start to take one of the last plates off the table my attention is drawn to the large windows that face the creek. The sun is setting over the trees and water and it's breathtaking. I watch transfixed as a heron soars past my line of sight.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sylvia whispers at my elbow.

I turn to her and smile.

"Yeah, it is."

She nods and takes the plate from me.

"Why don't you go in and join Walter," she adds.

"Thanks, Sylvia. I think...I think this is going to work out, you know."

"I think so too. I'm going to talk to Mom later and find out what happened on the porch. It looks like things went smoothly but...I'll do mop-up if it's necessary," she replies with a wry twist of her mouth.

Walter's gruff laughter distracts us for a moment. We glance into the living room area. He's arm wrestling with Ben and feigning injury after letting him win. Ben is trying to tickle his side and Roger is laughing like hell.

"I don't think mop-up's going to be necessary," I remark, turning back to Sylvia.

"Evidently," she laughs, turning and leaving my side to go into the kitchen.

I make my way down to the living room and take a seat on the couch in back of where Walter and the boys are sitting on the floor around the low butcher block coffee table.

"I see Uncle Walter still can't arm wrestle," I observe archly. 

"You mean you've beaten him."

"Several times," I nod, smirking at Walter.

"In a pig's eye. Didn't your mother ever tell you it's a sin to lie, Mulder?" he rumbles, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Ok...you got me. No...I've never even tried. He'd probably break my arm off," I reply. Unless we were in bed I think. He'd let me hold him down and...cancel that thought. This is family time here. I chuckle. "I can't afford to lose my gun arm," I add.

"Wow! I almost forgot," Ben exclaims. "Uncle Walter, you promised..."

Esther, who has been working on a crossword puzzle while watching the boys and Walter, puts it aside.

"Promised what, Ben?"

"Uncle Walter promised he'd show us his new Smith and Wesson," Roger answers for his brother.

"Boys..." Sylvia interrupts coming into the living room. "You know what Dad and I said about guns."

"Ah, Mom. He was just going to show us. We aren't going to touch it," Ben replies.

"Ben, if your mother would prefer I didn't..."

Ben and Roger plead silently up into Sylvia's face. She sighs and goes to sit down in a chair across from them.

"All right...but then I want you all to do what we talked about. Roger needs to collect those lightning bugs to observe for his project.

"All right!" Ben enthuses. Roger smiles at his mother.

Esther leans forward a little.

"So, you're not carrying the Glock any longer? Good. I think the Smith and Weapon semi-automatic is a much better weapon."

I raise my eyebrow at her.

"The Glock was a good weapon. It's still my back-up," Walter replies, giving her his own raised eyebrow. He glances at me as he goes for his holster. "She'd say she's glad I bought American but that's not PC."

"Walter...you can be a trial sometimes," Esther replies with a quick laugh. There's love in her eyes however and Walter answers with a gruff chuckle. He takes his gun out and removes the clip. He sets the clip on the table, makes sure the safety's on, and holds the black gun out for both boys to see. It gleams in the living room lights.

"This is a Smith and Wesson semi-automatic. 9 MM," he states briefly. "Pretty much standard issue," he adds, turning it over.

Both boys lean close and examine the gun in Walter's hands. Ben looks up at me.

"Is your gun like this one, Mr. Mulder?"

"Almost. Mine is silver with a black grip."

"Did you ever shoot anyone with it?" Ben replies.

Sylvia clears her throat. "Ben...that's none of our business," she advises.

Ben looks over at her and then back at me.

"Sorry, Mr. Mulder."

"It's ok, Ben," I smile gently at him.

"All right. Show's over," Walter interjects, picking the clip up and inserting it back into the grip. He slips his gun into the holster, rises and rocks back to sit on the couch next to me. "Time for your bug hunt," he adds looking at the boys pointedly.

"Yeah, come on, Ben," Roger nods. "I bet we can find some peepers too."

"You want me to help?" Sylvia asks as the boys get up and head for the kitchen.

"Cool, yeah," Ben smiles. Sylvia smiles back and gets up to join them. "I think I have a second jar," she remarks. "And the 'Deep Woods Off'," she chuckles.

"Nana, Uncle Walter, Mr. Mulder...you want to help too?" Roger asks politely.

"No, dear, I'm thinking of going to bed soon. It's been a long and active day for me," Esther replies, smiling. "But have fun."

"I'll take a rain check guys," Walter replies. "It's been a long day for me too. I'm going to turn in early."

"Ditto. But thanks," I nod in return.

"Ok," Roger replies, walking quickly over to kiss his grandmother on the cheek. "Good night, Nana."

"Good night, Roger," Esther replies. Roger leaves her and Ben comes over to repeat the ritual.

"Good night, Uncle Walter, Mr. Mulder," Roger adds as he walks off towards the kitchen. Roger is obviously too old to kiss Walter on the cheek.

"Night, Roger," Walter and I chorus.

Ben however isn't quite as concerned with appearances. He darts over and gives Walter a quick hug. Walter hugs him back. "Night, buddy," he murmurs and then he lets him go.

"Night," Ben says as he scampers off after his brother. "Night, Mr. Mulder," he adds.

"Night, Ben," Walter replies.

Sylvia crosses to her mother and kisses her on the cheek as well. 

"Night, Mom. I'll be up after a while."

"I will read for a little while," Esther smiles. "I'll probably be awake when you come up."

"All right," Sylvia nods. Sylvia's 'mop-up' remark comes back to mind as I realize she means to talk with her mother before retiring. 

Walter and I stand when Sylvia comes over. She hugs Walter briefly but warmly and then to my surprise, hugs me too.

 "See you two in the morning," she adds, somewhat shyly.

"Night, sis," Walter rumbles a little self-consciously. I get the impression that he's accustomed to these displays of affection but not totally comfortable with them, outward appearances notwithstanding.

"Night, Sylvia," I smile.

Sylvia turns and makes her exit.

Esther watches them go and then stretches a little.

"Well...that is my cue to go up to bed. I need my beauty rest," she quips.

"Yeah, I'm beat. I'm going to turn in too," Walter agrees. "Mulder?"

"No argument there. I'm whacked. Sorry - I mean, yes, I need to get to bed as well."

"Enjoy your bourbon, gentlemen," Esther laughs gently. Walter barks a quick laugh at my raised eyebrow as well.

"My mother could work for the Bureau," Walter observes archly. 

"Oh, I know you like a bourbon after dinner, Walter. And you know I know. It's fine. You don't have to hide it in the guest house. Bring it up here tomorrow night if you'd like. I won't mind."

"All right," he nods.

"Thank you, I'm sure I'll enjoy it," I add, nodding my head.

She smiles and rises out of the chair.

"Good night then," she nods. Walter walks to her side, and kisses her on the cheek. She hugs him as he does and then they part.

Esther walks away and heads off towards the wing of the house that comprises the bedrooms.

Walter turns to me and smiles a little.

"I think a bourbon does sound like a good idea. How about it?" he asks.

"Yeah. I could use a drink," I reply, sighing.

"No shit," Walter nods, patting me on the shoulder. "Let's go. Sylvia'll lock up."

"Ok," I reply, smiling. We head for the front door.

xXx 

 

* * *

 

xXx

I towel off my face after washing it and exit the bathroom. Walter is already done cleaning up for bed. Both of us took a leak, flossed and brushed our teeth. Walter washed up first so he could get the glasses for our drinks. He took the bourbon out with him when he left the bathroom.

I enter the bedroom and observe him opening the bottle of bourbon over by the small table for two. The glasses are sitting on the table. Walter is wearing his 'tightie whities' this evening. I wore a pair of blue boxers today, just for variety, I guess. In any event, both of us are more comfortable and Walter looks mighty good as he unscrews the top of the liquor bottle. He pours a finger full of bourbon into both the glasses and then he sets the cap and the bottle down on the table.

"Here you go, babe," he rumbles, picking up a glass and extending it towards me.

I walk over and take the glass from him.

"Thanks," I reply.

He clinks his glass against mine.

"Skoal," he murmurs.

"Cheers," I reply.

He puts the glass to his lips, tilts his head back and swallows the whole thing without batting an eye. I sip mine cautiously, find it sufficiently smooth not to make me gag and knock back a healthy swig.

He smiles at my watering eyes.

"Smooth isn't it?"

"It's good," I nod, sipping at the bit that's left. Walter watches me finish it.

"More?" he asks.

"Nah...I think I'll quit while I'm ahead."

He smiles a little, "Yeah, me too."

He motions for me to hand him my glass and when I do he heads back into the bathroom. I watch him go, and shake my head a little. Ok...I thought maybe he would be a little more forthcoming...a little more talkative over our after dinner drink.

I hear water running as I pick up the bottle and cap it again. I put the bottle back down on the table and head over to the bed. There's a 19 inch TV on the dresser that sits on what I've decided will be my side of the bed. I pick up the remote and toy with it. No. As much as I want to turn on the tube and zone out I have two problems with the idea.

One problem is I think my man Walter wants to talk - his shortness over the booze notwithstanding. He's got that tight look on his face that says there are still things he needs to discuss here. Maybe he just wants to confirm that I think everything's going to be ok. Maybe there are still things he's apprehensive about this weekend with his family and wants to run them past me.

There's also still the niggling suspicion in my mind that there's a subtext under what's being said here so far about his sexuality that I can't quite put my finger on. There are more gears meshing in Walter's mind over the issue of homosexuality than just whether his family is going to accept our relationship.

I've noticed that every time he mentions Scully's name in conversation there's an odd hoarseness to his voice. As if he's trying to clear his throat in embarrassment. I have to wonder what's going on there. If he doesn't cough up the information soon I'm going to have to bring it up with him. If he's got an underlying problem with our three way agreement here we need to get it out in the open. It could just be that he's doubly worried about how he would explain something like that to his family. It could also mean he has doubts about the whole arrangement. Needless to say I love the arrangement we have between the three of us. I want us to maintain it and nurture it. But if it's getting to be difficult for Walter...I...I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it. I sigh. Well...I guess the best thing I can do is wait him out - as always - and hope he's going to spill his guts so we can wrangle it all out between us.

That brings me to my second problem. I've been pretty much in a state of arousal all afternoon and evening. My boxer briefs are wet inside with the tell-tale evidence. Being in close proximity to Walter has that effect on my libido. He's just an incredible turn-on for me and things are getting more than a little tense right now. I can tell though that unfinished business makes the prospect of me getting any a dim one. But damn I want his cock. God, I'm such a slut sometimes. I really have to learn to show some restraint I guess. I mean he's a stud but even studs need some downtime. Hell...I really shouldn't complain. He's usually more than willing to go at the drop of a hat.

I shrug a little and set the remote on the night stand. I strip off my boxers and toss them on the end of the bed. Ok. Hope springs eternal - what can I say? I turn down the comforter, climb into bed under the sheet and blanket, and settle back against the pillows to wait for Walter to return.

I hear the toilet flush. Walter comes back out and notices that I'm not watching the TV.

"No box tonight?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Not tonight. I am kind of tired. You mind?" I ask quizzically. 

"No," he shakes his head. "No problem. The AC in here ok for you?" he asks as he makes his way around the room, locking up.

"It's fine," I confirm.

He nods and completes checking the patio door. When he's done with that he turns off all the lights except the one in the bathroom and the one on the night stand next to his side of the bed. He cracks the bathroom door and then makes his way over to the bed. He takes off his glasses and places them on the night stand next to his cell phone, wallet, watch, ID, car keys and spare change. His gun is in the night stand drawer next to mine. He stares at the clock radio on my night stand.

"What do you say we be really decadent and not set the alarm?" I ask hopefully.

"You know...I kind of like that idea," he nods.

"I'll get up early anyway. I always do. I can wake you later if you want to sleep."

"Good deal," he agrees.

He hesitates for a moment, leaves his BVDs on and pulls back the covers. When he slips in he turns his back to me. Ok...I guess that's the definitive answer on the question 'Will Mulder get some?' I resign myself to my fate and attempt to tamp down my ardor. I shift over next to him, spooning up close. He doesn't protest and when I drape my arm over his waist he snuggles up closer and sighs. I kiss the back of his neck.

"It's ok," I whisper.

"Hmm?" he grunts.

"It's ok if you don't want to...uh..."

"Mulder..." he rumbles in exasperation.

"I don't mind is what I'm trying to say."

I know he's not going to say anything like 'Mulder, I'd rather cuddle tonight than fuck.' Or...'I think I'm too mentally and physically exhausted to get it up.' So, I'm going to give him an out. I know he can feel my cock against him and it's half hard as well as dampening the back of his BVDs. He's gotta know I want it and it's probably embarrassing the hell out of him that he doesn't feel like participating in a little one on one.

The way a partner handles this kind of situation can make all the difference in the world. Copping an attitude can make or break a relationship. The worst thing I can do right now is let my feelings of rejection and self-doubt about my desirability well up and cause me to hurt Walter by remarking on his disinterest in me sexually. And yeah...I have issues about my worthiness of Walter's love. A lot of issues. But I've been trying very hard to overcome those hang-ups because they're not constructive at all. I know rejection is not what's really going on here anyway. So, I try to stay supportive and squash that unproductive line of thought.

Walter grunts in agreement.

"You want to talk about it?" I murmur.

"Mulder, I'm beat. I really just want to sleep, all right?"

"All right," I mumble.

"All right," he echoes.

After a few seconds I throw in my last two cents.

"I think things are going ok. I don't think..."

He sighs hard and rolls over under my arm to face me.

"You don't give up do you?" he shakes his head in bemused annoyance.

I smile at him a little in the semi-darkness and stroke his cheek. 

"Walter, I know something's still bothering you. I want to help, ok? I'm willing to listen if you want to talk about it."

He looks down for a moment and then back up into my eyes.

"I think it's just the day. It caught up with me that's all. Everything just...wore me out. The trip down here. The stress of anticipating what would happen. The...uh...discussion with my mother. I'm whacked, really - that's all. I am more hopeful about the whole matter. I just need to get some rest."

I study his face. I'm suspicious he's being evasive, but I can't be sure. Maybe that's what he's telling himself so he can drag himself out of whatever it is that's eating him. I have no idea. I'll have to give him the benefit of the doubt. I'll have to hope that he is ok and his mood is just a result of the trip fatigue, anxiety over the whole prospect of dealing with his family and the actual meeting of the minds that occurred this afternoon. I'll let this go for now. But, I make a mental note to stay alert and watch to see if this is really the situation at hand.

"Ok. Get some rest then. And for what it's worth. I think this is going to work out. I think your mother's a hell of a woman and I think she's going to make the effort to understand."

He does grin a little over that remark.

"Yeah, Esther surprised the hell out of me," he replies, nodding a little. "But believe me, it was a pleasant surprise for once...and I'm friggin' grateful. You know..." his voice falters.

"What?" I ask quietly.

"I do love her," he whispers, looking down.

"I'm glad. I can tell she loves you too," I reply, rubbing his shoulder. "Now...let's get you that rest. Turn over and assume the position."

He looks up and grins a little wider, nods and shifts over onto his side again. I snuggle close to his back and put my arm around his waist once more. This time he holds onto my forearm and relaxes back against me.

"Mulder?"

"Hmm?"

"I...I know you want it. I...I could...you know - jerk you off." 

"Don't worry about it," I mumble, giving his back a light kiss. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll be all right. I'm a big boy. I know you can't always get what you want," I reply, singing the last bit in imitation of Mick Jagger.

Walter chuckles gruffly, "Yeah, I can feel just how big a boy right now."

"I'll be fine. Go to sleep," I reply.

"Ok, babe. But...you're takin' a rain check."

"S'fine. G'night," I mumble, rubbing his stomach a little.

"Love you," he whispers barely audibly.

"Love you too," I whisper in return.

I hold him as his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. As he starts to snore lightly I feel myself drift off as well.

xXx

I'm not sure what wakes me up. I glance at the small clock radio. It's a little past midnight. I root around under the covers, seeking to snuggle back next to my bed buddy...and the bed's empty. I sit up in alarm and see Walter standing in front of the patio doors. He's opened the curtains and moonlight is streaming into the room. His figure is all pale shadows and sculpted black. He holds a glass of bourbon in his hand.

He must have had a nightmare is the first thought that runs through my mind. I didn't hear it though, so...maybe not follows the first thought. I run my hand through my hair and watch as he just stares out over the lawn and out towards the creek, sipping on the bourbon.

Finally I speak to him.

"You all right, big guy?" I whisper.

He drains the glass and sets it down on the small table next to him.

"Yeah...I...I just woke up, I guess. Couldn't get back to sleep," he shrugs. He doesn't turn however, preferring to still look out the patio door.

"A nightmare?" I query with concern.

"No...uh... not a nightmare."

"Come back to bed," I suggest. "I'll give you a massage," I offer. 

He turns around and shakes his head.

"No...that's ok. I'm all right now. Let me just get the curtains and I'll be right there," he replies, running a hand over his scalp. 

I lie back down and wait for him. He draws the curtains and then returns to his side of the bed. He sits down, swings his legs up again and lies flat on his back. I shift over and lie next to him, propped up on one elbow.

"You really ok?" I ask again, my voice tinged with worry.

"Yeah...fine," he nods. "G-night, babe," he adds, turning away from me onto his side. I frown a little. This isn't good. I wish to hell he'd level with me. I know something's up now. I mean what the fuck? I lie down flat, trying to struggle against my apprehension as I spoon close again. If I don't put the worry out of my mind I'll be the one not sleeping through the rest of the night. I still my mind and concentrate on Walter's warmth, his scent and his even breathing. I feel marginally more calm after a few moments.

"Night," I whisper, draping my arm over him again. He shifts close and grips my forearm to his stomach. I smile and kiss the back of his neck. He's quiet for a few moments and then he whispers my name.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"My father's ashes were scattered off Judge's Point. Sometimes...when I come back here...I...uh...it's the memories, you know. I have a little trouble sleeping," he murmurs.

Oh Jesus, I think, swallowing hard.

"Walter...it's ok. I'm sorry. I didn't know that about your father," I reply. It's all I can think to say. I pull him closer and hug him tight, rubbing my face into the fringe of hair on the back of his head. We lie there, breathing together for a few moments. Finally, Walter speaks again, and his voice is a little hoarse with unshed tears.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he rumbles.

"Don't mention it," I reply as his breath evens out and he drifts again into sleep.

xXx

Saturday, July 3, 1999. 6:00 AM. The guest cottage. Judge's Point. 

I lift one gummy eyelid and stare into Walter's morning beard stubble. He's peacefully sawing wood. He's lying on his back next to me, having moved flat during the night at some point. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, dappling his face with the shadows from a tree outside. I roll over and open both eyes to focus on the clock radio. It reads 6 AM.

Early. As I said. Ok, well I did want to run today. Saturdays are an off day for Walter. He does calisthenics but doesn't run. So, I hit the trail alone even when I'm staying with him. I gently extricate myself from where our legs are still entangled and slide out from under the covers so as not to disturb him. After his disturbed night, and the stress he was under all day yesterday I think he can really use the sleep.

I'm still bothered by the incidents that happened yesterday and last night - but with the dawn of a new day I'm willing to start fresh and see if he really is better. If he pulls out of it I'll let matters slide until we get back to DC. If not...well we're going to play a lot more than 20 questions and his reticence be damned.

I leave the bedroom and walk into the can, shutting the door behind me to keep the noise down. I go to the sink to rinse my mouth out with the mouthwash I brought along. I have a bad case of bourbon breath. I take the opportunity to wash my face as well while I'm waiting for my morning hard-on to subside. I'm only at half mast. Christ I should be thankful I don't have a cock like a steel rod after being so horny last night. I'd hate having to wait an hour to piss. But I feel like I had a good night's sleep and all things considered I guess I should be thankful for that too.

After I wash my face I finally grow flaccid so I make my way over to the john. The lids are down. I chuckle. Yeah, you can tell Walter was married for 17 years. Sharon trained him well. I lift up the lids, take myself in hand and piss. I stare off into space, contemplating what we could do on this fine summer day. As I shake off, I decide to just let things develop as they go along. Before I think about it, I flush the toilet. I curse silently at the idea I may have woken up Walter as the toilet does its thing. Luckily it's one of those quiet flushers. I proceed back to the sink to wash and dry my hands again. As I'm washing I happen to think I should leave some kind of note for Walter. He'll probably know I went running but I might as well remind him just in case. I pick up the soap and write 'Went For A Run' on the bathroom mirror. I exit the bathroom.

Walter is still oblivious to the world so I quickly snag my running clothes and running shoes, dress and leave the cottage through the front door. I lock the door behind me and head up the driveway to the main house. I figure if I jog down the driveway and then out along the road I can cover a couple of miles out and then a couple back and that should be sufficient for a vacation work out. 

As I reach the front of the house, the front door opens and Sylvia comes out. She's dressed in dayglo orange running shorts, a white tank top, socks and running shoes as well. Her long hair is tied up and back. A sweatband is around her head. I smile as she waves me over.

"Morning," she smiles.

"Hey," I smile back.

"Walter said you ran," she observes.

"Every day if I can."

"Ah. How many miles?"

"I'm going to do about 2 up and 2 back."

"Estimating the mileage how?"

"I was hoping there were mileage markers," I grin.

She chuckles, "Well there are...after a fashion. This is a pedometer," she taps a small circular device attached to her ankle. "If you'd like to join me I can count off the distance."

"Is four miles ok for you?"

"Sure. I'm only doing about that anyway. I sprained my ankle a few months ago."

"Oh. Well, we'll take it slow then. I think that'll be good for me too," I smile.

I start to stretch and she moves into her stretching routine as well.

"Is Walter up?" she asks, placing her leg on one of the concrete planters that border the door. She starts to flex her thigh and calf muscle. I move to the other planter and do the same.

"Uh...no" I reply, coughing a little. "He had a little trouble getting to sleep. I let him sleep in."

"He didn't have a nightmare did he?" she asks concerned.

"No," I reply.

"He had a Vietnam nightmare here at Judge's Point once," she replies quietly. "God...scared the hell out of the boys. Me too for that matter. He...he used to have them a lot right after he came home."

"He doesn't have them very often now...or at least he hasn't since..." I let my voice trail off.

"Since you've been sleeping with him?" Sylvia smiles gently.

"Uh, yeah," I reply, flushing a little.

"Mulder...don't worry about it. I didn't think you were going to be using that cot," she smirks. I grin and the awkwardness passes as easily as it came up.

We stretch a bit more until both of us are satisfied we're ready to go and then we start a slow jog up the driveway, running side by side. After we get used to each other's running rhythm which coincides with us reaching the main road, Sylvia starts to talk.

"Mulder...I just want to tell you...I like you. I...I guess if the Skinner's have one talent it's being a good judge of character. I think you're on the level and...I just want you to know I think Walt made a good choice in partners," she states matter-of-factly.

"I appreciate that, Sylvia. I can tell you love Walter. I was hoping you'd think I was acceptable - as soon as I met you...I liked you too," I nod, as our feet beat time together on the pavement.

"You know Walter and I do keep in touch," she continues. "We always have - we used to write letters. Now we send e-mail and do that buddy chat thing once in a while. I can tell you Mulder, honestly...my brother has never been a really happy man. Not...not for a very long time anyway."

"I...I think I know what you mean," I reply quietly.

"Well Vietnam changed him of course. Getting wounded so horribly - all those men dying in front of him...I mean...any other man..."

"A lesser man would have never made it back, even if he did make it home."

"Precisely," Sylvia responds.

"Sylvia...you don't have to feel, obligated to tell me any of this...it's family business and..."

She turns towards me slightly as we run on, a quizzical look on her face.

"Mulder...Walter has talked about you so much I already feel like I know you like a brother. You are family - at least I think you're going to be family now...am I right?"

"I hope to be, yes."

"Then I feel like I can share this with you so you'll understand Walter better...and eventually perhaps my mother better as well." 

"I see," I nod. "Ok, go on then."

"Well there have been other things that have added to his unhappiness. My mother's drinking...his disagreements with my father over enlisting and then over his plans to go into the Bureau..."

"I heard him mention something similar yesterday...in regards to your mother being disappointed in him, however," I reply quietly. 

"After I left you on the back porch?" Sylvia asks.

"Yes," I nod in confirmation.

"Well, it's true. She was disappointed in him. But I think the main reason at the time was because he enlisted and went to the Academy to get away from my mother's drinking when it came down to brass tacks. Oh, of course law enforcement interested him more than running a trucking based empire, but...well at any rate, my father didn't want him to do either. My mother was too drunk to care, and my father blamed Walt and my mother both for Walt almost losing his life and then his losing Walt in the business."

"Jesus," I breathe out.

"Did Walter ever tell you how our father died?"

"No. He just mentioned that he died just before he entered Quantico."

"Well he died in a car accident outside Ambler. One night he and my mother had a fight - one in a long line of fights over her drinking. You know...I could never figure out why they stuck together. Except maybe it was because despite her drinking...Esther was a hell of a businesswoman - still is of course. Dad needed her to help him run the business. Oh, I think he loved her too. Deeply. But they used to go at it over the boozing. At any rate, they were fighting over the drinking and Walter's recent announcement that he was going to try for the FBI. Dad stormed out of the house...it was raining and the roads were slick. The rest you can guess."

"And Walter blamed his mother and her being drunk for his father's death?" I ask.

"Bingo," she huffs as we jog on down the side of the road. A car speeds past us, and Sylvia waves at the driver. The driver waves back. When the car is out of sight, Sylvia continues.

"Walter and our father had a love/hate relationship. Our father was a tough taskmaster. A lot like Walter really. They were so much alike I think it's why they butted heads so often. Deep down Walter worshipped him though, and Dad really loved Walter too. Walt had trouble speaking to my mother for a long time after the funeral. It was Sharon...well Sharon got them back together really."

"So the divorce was painful to your mother as well as Walter." 

"Sharon was the daughter of one of mom's art circle friends. Mom really liked Sharon. Yeah, the divorce hurt."

I nod. Well this explains a lot, I guess. I'm really glad she's explaining it all to me. Maybe Judge's Point has its good memories for Walter but it's obvious after last night it has some memories that are troublesome as well. No wonder he's even more keyed up than this situation would warrant. Just coming home is stressful enough without adding all the issues about his sexuality to the mix. Maybe all this is what's been eating at him all along. Maybe his morose attitude had nothing to do with Scully after all. God, I hope not. I'm going to grab on to that idea and hold onto it with dear life because I really don't want to have to deal with the alternative. Sylvia draws me out of my reverie as she continues.

"At any rate, Mulder. What I'm trying to get at is - Walt hasn't had a really easy life. He's had some high spots of course. Don't get me wrong. I mean we at least had a happy childhood - nannies notwithstanding. He does take pride in his job and genuinely likes it despite the aggravation. He thinks he's making a difference there. He's had us - me and Roger and the kids I mean. He's taken a lot of pleasure in being an uncle and brother-in-law. God knows he's been good to me. I couldn't ask for a better brother. But in the main - I just got the idea he's never...you know...had that joy in his life that...."

"That you have when you're with someone you really love."

"Exactly. He's always been alone...and kind of closed off - until now," she replies, smiling over at me as we stride on.

"Well...I can say the same thing...except in my case - I wasn't exactly closed off. It was more like I was....adrift and almost drowning. Walter...Walter grounded me...saved me really. I...he's..." I let my voice trail off, swallowing my emotion hard.

"I understand," Sylvia whispers and we run on in silence for a few minutes.

Finally she breaks the silence with a chuckle. I glance at her. 

"What?" I smile.

"You do know that Walter told me about the two of you before he told my mother don't you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah. It was right before he went up to Crossroads for Christmas with you."

"Do I want to know what he said?" I laugh.

"Well he came down to Ambler and we went out for a drink. Mulder...he had that huge hickey on his neck. I'm sure you know the one I mean," she replies archly.

"Guilty as charged," I admit, flushing a little

"Yeah, well it was pretty 'out there'. Walter...with a love bite. I never even saw him with one of those when he was married for heaven's sake."

I start to laugh harder and Sylvia sputters more out.

"Well you know - he can be so...so..."

"Old-fashioned?"

"I was going to say tight-assed, but yeah. Sometimes he's like an old woman - God...like Mom," she giggles.

"Christ, what did your mother say?"

"Well he went over there after he got done using me for his test run for the big revelation. I think he wore a turtleneck when he went to see her."

I have to slow down I'm starting to laugh so hard. Sylvia slows too after glancing at her odometer. She holds up two fingers as she continues.

"So, we're in this bar and I'm just staring at his neck while he's trying to tell me he met someone special. I was dying."

I almost choke on my spit as we stop for a moment, turn round and begin to jog slowly back.

"Well...I guess you were really choking when he told you it was a man," I cough, running on.

"I can't say it made it any more easy to swallow, no." she nods. "But you know...I should have seen it coming...maybe suspected," she muses as we start the first leg of the return trip.

"How so?" I ask, curious.

"Well...he talked about you a lot - you and Scully both actually. But...when he'd mention your name...his whole face would change. I just never thought...well no offense but Walt hid his preferences very well and..."

"He doesn't 'act' gay?"

"Sorry...yeah...I mean even I'm guilty of that kind of stereotyping crap I guess."

"Hey, for what it's worth...I had no idea either. I thought...I thought..."

"You thought you were a dead man for coming onto him?"

"Hell, yeah," I chuckle.

"He told me as much."

We both laugh and jog on in silence then, concentrating on the work out.

"Look, Sylvia, is this going to be all right with Esther? I don't...I don't like the idea of coming between her and her son," I finally admit, getting it out in the open.

"Mulder...Esther has one issue. She just doesn't want Walter to be hurt again. She knows she hurt him very badly for years. She...she hurt me too for that matter. But...she's changed...a lot. Therapy helped her there. We've got a real mother/ daughter relationship now. I thinks she's trying to patch things up with Walter as well so she can get back that mother/son relationship."

"I'm not going to hurt Walter. It's the last thing I'd want to do."

"I know that...but look...and please don't take offense. You're Walter's subordinate, Mulder. Esther...Esther sees that as dangerous for Walter. If you're ever outted on the job...it's her viewpoint that Walter will suffer more, being your supervisor...and that he has a hell of a lot more to lose. She doesn't want to see that happen. So, besides wrestling with the issue of homosexuality she's also trying to come to terms with the idea that her son's career could be ruined and what that might do to him."

I glance at Sylvia and think to myself - 'If you only knew what kind of dangers Walter is under'. Ruin his career? Try wipe him off the face of the Earth. Our little pas de deux isn't even a drop in the bucket compared to the higher evil we're dealing with on a daily basis. I can't say it though because I know Walter has shielded his family from that evil to protect them. I almost tell her I'm not directly assigned to Walter anymore. But in the long run that's really not even that important. I was assigned to him when we started our relationship and he's still senior to me even if he isn't supervising me. So, I have to deal with things at face value here. We'd be in big trouble regardless for being male FBI agents fucking each other. Telling Sylvia I'm no longer under Walter's jurisdiction is really pointless.

"It would be the same situation for Walter if he was seeing one of his female agents...or dating his executive assistant, or any less senior female agent, really."

"But he isn't...he's having sex with a male agent. Mulder, you know it's different. They'll hang him up by his balls if they find out," she ends quietly.

I sigh, and run on, letting my feet pound for a few seconds, trying to gather my thoughts. Sylvia waits for me to reply and finally I do.

"Sylvia, the only rebuttal I have for that idea is...Walter makes his own decisions. It's his life. He's chosen to be with me. I guess he accepts the risks. I know I do. I'm...I'm willing to face whatever happens. I have to be...I love him. Not being with him isn't an alternative at this point. We're being as discreet as we can. But...I can't tell your mother...I can't assure her this is going to be safe or that Walter won't be found out and drummed out of the Bureau. We...we can only take precautions against it and hope it never happens."

"That's pretty much what I told my mother, Mulder," Sylvia replies.

I nod.

"Thanks, Sylvia."

"For what it's worth...she does like you - provisionally. I think...I suspect things will go just fine..."

"Barring any hickeys?" I smirk.

"Don't even joke. I still have to talk to the boys," she laughs. "I was going to say 'in time'."

"I promise to be on my best behavior and to remain patient," I reply, giving her the boy scout hand sign.

"I'll hold you to it, Fox Mulder. Now...last one to the house has to wake Walter."

"Hey! You gotta know he's a bear in the morning," I exclaim as she streaks on ahead of me, laughing as she runs.

"He is my big brother, after all," she calls back.

"No fair!" I laugh in return as I pound off after her.

xXx 


End file.
